


Offer Me My Deathless Death

by cactuscactus



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, Complicated Relationships, Immortality, M/M, lots of bullshitting stuff about shinigami lore, more tags will probably be added as this goes on, not like actual japanese shinigmai lore i mean the stuff in the show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 51,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27167551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactuscactus/pseuds/cactuscactus
Summary: L Lawliet was born in the year 1631, and left on the doorsteps of an English orphanage.Frozen in time at the age of 24 due to a run in with a vampire, in modern day L is now one of the greatest detectives in the world. When a serial killer known as Kira begins to kill criminals through heart attacks, L agrees to take on the case.When he realizes one of the suspects is Light Yagami though, everything about the case changes.Because since 1655, L has seen that face countless times through countless lifetimes. Because even though his name changes with every new lifetime granted, L somehow always runs into him. Somehow, he always seems to be at the source of L's problems, no matter the century.So L knows as soon as he sees Light Yagami, that he has to be the one he's searching foraka L is a vampire and somehow always finds a reincarnated Light every few decades, and even though Light has no memory of his past lives, he almost always is the cause of L's issues. It's only more of a headache that L falls in love with the bastard every time too.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 64
Kudos: 213





	1. 1655

**Author's Note:**

> haha am I starting another death note fic and putting it on anon because I know i likely won't finish it... maybe...
> 
> I have so much other stuff i need to write but then i watch interview with the vampire ONCE and suddenly this au idea is all i can think about
> 
> look there is just so much potential for immortal L dealing with reincarnated Light's justice bullshit over several centuries like come on how funny is that
> 
> anyway I've gone through wikipedia so much for this but if I have some historical inaccuracies feel free to let me know but I promise I'm trying
> 
> so quick note about how these chapters are gonna work: the first one is gonna be L's first time meeting Light and then turning into a vampire. Second chapter is gonna likely be a giant montage of all the following times L has met Light over the next few centuries to bring us to the modern day premise of Death Note. Then from there we'll follow the storyline but like, I don't have that part super planned out yet so bear with me
> 
> anyway that's it for now! hope you guys enjoy!

The first time L met Light Yagami, his name wasn’t Light Yagami. 

The year was 1655. Having grown up as an orphan in England, L had managed to find a way to dig himself out of the scraps of poverty and found an education. Nothing formal as he didn’t have the funding for that, but he was able to learn nonetheless. 

L had always had a knack for learning. The subject didn’t matter—reading, writing, philosophy, natural philosophy—it was all easy enough for him to pick up on. 

The first time he had dedicated himself to a subject completely though, it was to language. L didn’t have the resources to attend an actual university, so it wasn’t as if he could become an academic. But he had access to books on language. Specifically, books on the languages of the Far East. The mysterious land of delicacies like tea and silk. Places L had only ever heard of in the past. For him, it was easy enough to get to conversational levels in both Chinese and Japanese, and it wasn’t long before he could very well be considered fluent—at least by the standards of his books. 

And that’s how L Lawliet had ended up on a Dutch trading ship heading for Dejima. The Dutch traders had stopped in an English port, requesting a translator who knew the Japanese language. Up until that point, he had been working at the docks as both a laborer to load up ships, and as a translator for the occasional Chinese ship that came through every so often. 

A quick demonstration of his Japanese skills had convinced the Dutch captain that he was good enough for their journey. And so after grabbing his things, L had found himself onboard, leaving behind the only life he had ever known. 

It wasn’t a difficult decision. The job paid much better than his prior one had, and he had always wanted the chance to travel. He had no connections in England. No family, no friends. There was no reason for him to stay. 

The journey had been long. They had encountered storms and rivalries, but thankfully no disease or food shortages. By the time the coast of Dejima became a thin line on the horizon, L had realized that he rather liked dry land. Much preferable to the rocky boats anyway. 

Japan was an amazing thing to witness. Everything from the food, to the clothing, the houses, all of it was like nothing L had ever seen before. It was fascinating to learn about. 

He also quickly learned that while his Japanese skills may have been fluent according to his own resources, he was sorely lacking in the areas of pronunciation and accents. He could understand whatever was being said to him, but had more difficult translating it back in a coherent manner to the Japanese they were interacting with. The Japanese were surprisingly understanding though, and never berated him for his butchering of their language, which he thought was rather kind. 

The one thing about Japan that disappointed L though was that both him and the rest of the Dutch crew were not allowed outside of Dejima. The Japanese were very strict about letting foreigners into the country, not even into Nagasaki, which sat right outside Dejima’s perimeter. Instead, they were given housing in Dejima, with female courtesans being provided for the sailors that the Japanese called oranda-yuki. 

L never took the ink-haired girls up on their offers. While they were certainly beautiful—all white paint and red lips—L had never truly considered himself someone with a fondness for women. When the other sailors questioned him though, he’d simply imply that he had a wife waiting for him back in England, one that he wasn’t willing to be unfaithful towards. 

They were set to stay for three weeks. They were only there for two days when L met _him_. 

As mentioned before, at this time his name wasn’t Light Yagami. L had since forgotten what Light’s name had been the first time they’d ever met. It didn’t matter though, because it was still him. Same shaggy reddish brown hair, same piercing dark brown eyes, his face all sharp angles and points. 

Coming from a wealthy Japanese family, Light has been studying to be a translator for foreign trade dealings such as the one L was on. While his main areas of study had been Chinese and Dutch, L had also been surprised to learn that Light was attempting to study English as well, despite Japan’s scarce contact with the country of England. 

The two of them gradually formed a rapport with one another. L could practice his pronunciation when it came to Japanese with Light, and Light could practice his English with L. In terms of skill level, L was far more advanced with Japanese than Light was with English, given his lack of proper resources. But L taught the young man what he could, writing out ways to pronounce different English words, and teaching him small phrases here and there. 

As the days passed, the two translators became friends. It was honestly the first time L had ever had what he truly could consider a friend. Everyone else in his life had been so casual. A few laborers at the docks he’d grab drinks with on occasion, the few children he remembered from the orphanage, no one he talked to regularly enough to call a true friend. 

But there was something about Light that was different. L had always found that he was different from others. His mind worked too fast and too slow at the same time. Focusing on what was being told to him was so boring because he had already figured out how to do what he needed long before the other person had even finished their instruction. He struggled to understand the more subtle nuances of conversation. The ducking of a head, the flush of cheeks, subtle cues to indicate what the other person was feeling at any given moment. L simply didn’t understand why he had to try and pick up on these tiny details when his opposite could just tell him outright what they meant. 

Somehow though, Light seemed to understand him. While he was much better at social interaction than L was, all charming smiles and warm tones, he never berated L for his own lack of awareness. Along with that, Light’s mind seemed to work at the same speed as L’s. He never had to explain his logic in detail to Light, because Light had already figured it out for himself. When he was tutoring Light in English, he only had to explain the alphabet once before Light was figuring out how to pronounce entire words written on a page. For L, who had never been able to find genuine connection with another due to his differences, he finally had someone who he could be himself with. 

There was… something else there as well. Sometimes, Light would brush his hand against L’s, just for the briefest of moments, and L would feel something spark in his chest. Sometimes, L would find himself analyzing the planes of Light’s face, all the sharp angles and points, wondering what it would be like to rub his thumb across his cheek. Sometimes, Light’s own gaze would linger just a little too long on L’s lips, and L would know they were thinking the same thing. 

Eventually, L’s last night in Dejima came. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me right when I’m getting the hang of reading that storybook you have,” Light was complaining as they walked down the darkened street. 

It was late at night. The two had spent most of their evening at a bar, drinking rice wine and joking in different languages to one another. But at one point, Light had wanted to take a walk outside to get some fresh air, and L couldn’t find any good reason to object. 

“Oh don’t be such a crybaby. I’m already leaving half of my books with you. I’m sure by the time I come back here again you’ll be able to read them better than I can,” L shot back. 

“But how am I supposed to know if I’m pronouncing things correctly? It’s not like I know any other Englishman who can correct me,” Light pointed out, pouting at L. 

L rolled his eyes. “Believe me, I’d love to stay longer, but I don’t think your government would be very happy about an English sailor lingering in Dejima.” 

“Then we’ll just have to make sure that next time you come here you’re able to stay for longer,” Light said, shooting a soft smile towards L. For some reason, the knowledge that Light genuinely wanted him to remain in Japan with him for longer gave him a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach. 

“When are you coming back here anyway?” Light asked after a few beats of silence passed. 

“That depends on the Dutch. I believe they said they’ll come back to Japan in six months possibly? We’re going back to Pulicat in India first, then we’ll be stopping in Hoi An in Vietnam. I think from there we’re going to a newer port on the southern tip of Africa, and then we’re heading back to The Netherlands from there. All that should take a few months, and then we’ll probably remain in The Netherlands for another month, before getting back on the ship and repeating the process.” 

“That sounds closer to a year,” Light commented, his voice softening. 

“Yes, it seems it could be closer to a year,” L murmured. 

The two fell quiet for a moment, their footsteps slowing until they were leaning against the wall of some shop that was shut down for the night. 

“We’ve only known each other for three weeks, and yet I already know this next year is going to be almost unbearable without you,” Light said, staring off into the distance. 

“I… feel the same about that,” L whispered, moving closer so that their shoulders were bumping, although they still weren’t looking at each other. “You understand me in a way no one else does. You’re the first person I’ve met that I can truly call a friend.” 

Light smiled again, and L wondered what it meant when it felt like there were a thousand suns exploding in your chest. 

There was a warmth in his left hand, and when L glanced down, he saw that Light had threaded their fingers together. 

“There’s… something I’ve been wanting to do for the past few weeks, and since I likely won’t see you for another year after this, I think I want to try it while I can,” Light told him, turning to face L. 

L’s heart began to pound in his chest as Light leaned closer to him. Without thinking, he reached a hand up to gently rest his fingertips on Light’s cheek, just like he had imagined doing so many times before. Light leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment as L began to trace the planes of his face. 

They both leaned in at the same time, and when their lips met, it was like L was coming home. 

Light was warm against him. Warm lips and gentle caresses as they memorized the lines of each other’s faces. Finally, L understood why the other sailors would spend so much on those women back at their living quarters for some companionship. They were looking for this. The high of being truly with another person, soft and pliant under your touch. 

Perhaps it was the rice wine heating the blood in their veins, or maybe it was just the newness of it all for L, but he found himself hungering for more. He pushed Light against the wall of the shop, and Light opened his mouth to allow L even more access. 

In retrospect, L had no idea how long they had kissed for. For that moment, it was only the two of them in the entire world. Relishing in the little time they had left, regretting all the moments they had wasted up until that point. 

Eventually, L pulled back. Under the pale light of the moon, Light’s lips and cheeks were glowing red. He was smiling, and so was L. 

Light opened his mouth to say something. But before he could, L felt a hand slam onto his shoulder. 

He didn’t get a chance to react. One moment, he and Light were entangled in each other, and the next he was being thrown to the ground. His head slammed against a stone, and his vision went spinning as he tried to see who their attacker was. 

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?! Do you know who I am-” Light was cut off by a hand slamming over his mouth. L could hear his muffled yells, and through his blurred vision he could see that the man was now pinning Light to the wall. 

“Shut up or else this will hurt a lot more than it has to,” the man said. 

Despite the throbbing in the back of his skull, L forced himself to stand. He grabbed onto the attacker’s arm, almost recoiling when he realized the man was ice cold. 

The man whirled around to look at him. When he grinned, L saw pointed fangs. 

“Get off of him,” L hissed. 

“Oh, a brave one, are we?” The man raised an eyebrow, and L gasped when he felt icy fingers grip his hair. “Some advice in the future, don’t get in my way.” 

Then, L was being thrown against the wall with a level of force that shouldn’t have been possible. His head slammed painfully against it, any sense he had before completely lost as black spots grew in his vision. His legs gave out from under him, and he collapsed into the dirt. He tried to stand, but his body wouldn’t respond no matter how hard he tried. 

From his position on the ground, L could only watch the next things that occurred. Light whimpered under the man’s grip, still trying to speak despite the hand on his mouth. Then, the man pushed Light’s head to the side, exposing his neck. Suddenly, despite the fog in his brain, L realized why the man had fangs. 

He could only watch—paralyzed—as the man bit into Light’s neck. 

Light screamed in pain. He tried to thrash, attempted to struggle against the man’s iron grip, but it was no use. As the seconds ticked on, his squirming grew weaker and weaker. His eyes began to droop, and his head lolled to the side. 

At one point, their eyes met. L, now lying in a pool of his own blood, and Light, having the rest of his own blood sucked out of him. 

For some reason, Light smiled at him. A weak one, but a smile nonetheless. And for once, L knew exactly what it was supposed to mean. 

_It’ll be okay._

Then, his eyes closed completely, and only a few more seconds passed before he went limp. The attacker let go of his body, and L watched as Light’s form came crashing down right beside him. 

He was unnaturally pale. L looked to his chest, straining to see if he was breathing, but there was nothing. His eyes, usually so vibrant and full of excitement and love for life, were half-lidded and empty. 

The man then turned to him. His lips were coated with crimson, and L knew he was about to meet the same fate Light had. 

He could only hope it didn’t hurt. 

The man got down on one knee. He brushed L’s hair back, exposing the side of his own neck. L’s head was still spinning, the fog growing thicker with each passing second. He couldn’t fight back, but he was so tired that at this point he didn’t even want to. All he wanted was to sleep, and hopefully see Light again. 

The monster began to lean down. L closed his eyes. 

Then, there was another voice. 

“What do you think you’re doing?!” It was a woman’s voice, high-pitched and melodious like that of what one might call an angel. “Hunting? On _my_ territory?” 

The woman came into view, and L could now see the white silk that was draped over her frame. Her hair was piled high on top of her head, her face painted a pale white. She was one of the oranda-yuki. 

“Since when has Dejima been claimed?” The man sneered. 

The woman stormed over and shoved the man away from L. He sprawled out on the ground, indicating the woman was much stronger than she appeared. 

“I staked my claim in this place five years ago. If you wish to fight me for the rights, you can gladly do so. But know that you _will_ lose, and I will not show mercy to a man like you,” the woman hissed. There was something about her, the way she stood, or the way her eyes glinted with rage, that told L this man should take her very seriously. 

Apparently, the man could sense it too. 

“You’ve been around for a long time, haven’t you?” The man asked. 

The woman gave a curt nod. “Yes. Much longer than you, I’m sure. Which is why I recommend you don’t start anything with me, as I have the upper hand here.” 

The man stared the woman down for a few more beats of silence, before sighing and pushing to his feet. “Fine. I won’t hunt in Dejima again.” 

“Good,” the woman replied. 

And just like that, the man turned around and disappeared into the shadows, leaving as silently as he had appeared. 

Once he was gone, the woman knelt down beside L. 

“Oh, I’m so terribly sorry for that man,” the woman said, rolling L onto his back. He winced at the movement, pain shooting through his skull as he felt his hair become sticky with blood. The woman above him sucked in a breath through her teeth. “What a mess. I swear, men don’t know how to take care of these things in the proper ways,” she muttered. 

“My-My friend…” L muttered in a hoarse voice, eyes darting to where Light was still laying lifeless beside him. 

The woman glanced up, a gasp escaping her when she noticed Light’s body. She glanced between him and L, her lips setting into a thin line as her expression darkened. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said softly. 

The pain that shot through L’s chest wasn’t physical, like the pain in his head. But it was still shockingly hot nonetheless. 

He took a few shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down. If he was going to die, he didn’t want to do it panicking. 

“What’s… going to happen… to me now?” L forced out after a few seconds. If this woman was the same thing the man was, was she going to drain him like Light? 

The woman brought a hand up to his forehead, pushing back his hair and smoothing out the pinch of his brow with her thumb. 

“You’re dying,” she said simply. “Judging by the amount of blood you’ve lost, you only have a few minutes left.” 

L winced. The idea of dying, empty of blood and pale as a ghost, scared him more than he cared to admit. In the past, L would never have admitted he had a fear of death. But now that he was facing it head on, it was different. 

“How old are you?” The woman asked after a moment. 

L struggled to remember how to say his age in Japanese. 

“Twenty-four,” he breathed out. 

The woman sighed. “That’s so young…” she said softly, despite looking as if she couldn’t be more than twenty-five herself. Then, a strange expression flashed across her face. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted in a small ‘o’ as she glanced down at her own wrist. 

Then, her gaze turned back to L, no longer filled with sadness. 

“Do you want to live?” She asked, the gentle tone from before now gone. 

“Yes,” L answered instantly. 

“I’m going to make you an offer,” the woman then said. “I will save your life, but it will come at a cost. You will not die tonight, but in exchange you will forfeit your right to death altogether. You will never grow old, and you will never be harmed by weapons or disease.” 

“Is that what you are?” L asked. 

The woman nodded. “Yes. That is what that man that attacked you is as well.” 

“So… so I would have to drink…” L trailed off, the heaviness of his mind making it difficult to talk. 

“Yes, you would,” the woman answered. “But you don’t have to kill those you feed from. With enough practice, you’ll learn how much you can take before causing harm.” 

At this point, L’s thoughts were so scattered, he only vaguely understood what she was telling him. He could live, but he would never die, and he would have to drink blood. But he wouldn’t have to kill. 

None of it made sense. Creatures like that were only myths. 

Yet, Light was laying right beside him, all of the blood drained out of his body. 

“I’m going to ask you again,” the woman said, gripping L’s chin so he was forced to focus on her face. “Do you want to live?” 

In the distance, L could hear the ringing of bells. Somehow, he knew that was the calling card for Death. 

“Yes,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. 

The woman nodded. She pulled out a dagger from the folds of her kimono, and neatly dragged it across the delicate skin of her wrist. As dark crimson began to stain the white silk she was wearing, she pointed her wrist towards L, and he felt warm drops of blood fall onto his pale lips. 

The taste… was sweet. Sweeter than what he would have expected blood to taste like. Usually, when someone bit their tongue, a metallic taste would overwhelm the senses. But this blood was nothing like that. This woman’s blood was like the sweetest wine L had ever had. It was rich and warm and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to drink as much of it as he could. 

When she brought her wrist down to his lips, he began to drink eagerly from the wound, his half-dead state taking away any logical thoughts he might’ve had in a situation like this. 

The ache in his head began to fade. His body grew heavy, but not with the cold, creeping hands of death like before. No, he was heavy in the way one was when wrapped in a warm blanket. He felt full and safe, and knew that if he slipped into unconsciousness now, he would be able to wake up again. 

And that’s how he went. Willingly, into the arms of sleep and away from the hands of Death.

♰⁜♰

There was pain.

Hot pain, searing through his body. L gasped and tried to move around, to get away from the pain in any way he could. But his limbs wouldn’t respond. He was paralyzed as fire burned through his veins. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t seem to remember where his mouth was. He wanted to open his eyes to try and figure out where he was at least, but those wouldn’t work either. 

Memories danced across the backs of his eyelids as the pain swept through him. The only distraction from the hell his body was experiencing right now. 

He could see himself as a child. All large eyes, spindly limbs, and unruly black hair. A small frame perfect for darting in between the bigger kids, ducking under the fighting to grab the last piece of bread for the day. 

Then, he was a young teenager. Pouring over the few books the orphanage held in its library till the wee hours of the morning. A nun would come by, ask him how he was doing and if he wanted to take a break to go spend time with the other children. The answer was always the same. Yes he was fine. No, he did not want to go play with the other kids. 

Then he was sixteen. Fresh out of the orphanage, left to try and make his way in the world himself. He begged for a while. Pleaded for scraps or work on the dirty London streets. It wasn’t till a few years later that he found his way to the docks. It was there that he found his salvation in the form of manual labor. 

The memories passed by like a flickering candle. One moment they were there, the next moment they were snuffed out and replaced by another. It was an unusual kind of torment. Getting to rewatch all the hardships he’d faced in his life while under the most excruciating pain any living being had ever experienced. 

Time didn’t exist in this dark hell he was trapped in. It was an eternity of suffering. This must be the afterlife. But what had he done so wrong to deserve this kind of torture? If anything, he would have expected to have gone to purgatory, not to Lucifer’s domain. But that had to be where he was, for God surely would never make him suffer like this. 

More memories flashed by, quicker now. Getting a job with the Dutch, traveling to different countries, trying new and exotic foods. Staring up at the stars, wondering what the point of it all was. 

Then, Japan. Hair that was almost auburn and eyes that were almost red. A flash of a smile. Warm lips pressed against his own. 

Blood. So much blood. 

When L awoke, it wasn’t a gentle thing. It wasn’t a fluttering of the eyelashes. It wasn’t a hazy room slowly coming into focus. It was a very sudden thing. A mechanical opening of the eyelids, and the knowledge that the excruciating pain had disappeared completely. 

He expected to feel dizzy, or sore. But he felt… fine. He sat up without struggle, hands flying to the back of his head where he had been bleeding out during his last moments of consciousness. 

There was no wound. No blood was left in his hair, and there was no tenderness. It was as if that had never even happened. 

But he knew that night had happened. The image of Light’s dead body, staring at him only inches away, flashed in his head. That hadn’t been a dream. 

Had it? 

His question was answered when he saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He whipped his head towards the source, and stiffened when he noticed the oranda-yuki sitting in the far corner of his room. 

There was something different about her now. Something he couldn’t place exactly. There was an unnatural smoothness to her skin L hadn’t noticed before. Her hair was so black, it was almost like ink. Her dark eyes seemed to glow slightly despite the fact that the blinds were drawn to the room. 

Then, L realized that _everything_ in his vision was a bit off. Despite the fact that the curtains were shut and there were no candles lighting the room, he had no issue seeing in the darkness. He could see every knot in the wood paneled walls, spot every particle of dust floating in the air. When he glanced down at the mat he was sleeping on, he realized he could make out every single stitch on the fabric surface. 

“You must be very confused right now,” the woman said suddenly. She couldn’t have spoken above a whisper, but L heard her as if she was right next to his ear. 

“I… I am,” L answered. There was something off with his own voice as well. Had it always been that deep? “What’s wrong with me?” He asked, noticing the rich tones his voice dipped and swooped with. 

“Do you remember last night?” The woman asked instead, glancing up from the parchment she was writing on. 

Was it only last night? He remembered the attack. He remembered seeing Light’s lifeless face. He remembered the woman, rescuing him from that monster of a man. 

Then slowly, the rest of the pieces fell into place. The memories were sharp, as clear as if it had just happened moments ago despite the fact that he had been gravely injured at the time. He heard the woman’s words in his ears again. Her offer to him. The deal they struck. 

“What am I now?” L asked, fingers gripping the blankets beneath him. 

“There are many names for us. The closest thing my country has to what we are is a creature called the nure-onna, although it’s not particularly accurate save for the part about drinking blood. The Chinese have a closer legend, the jiangshi, although again it’s not completely accurate. I believe the closest thing you Europeans have is the word ‘ubir’, although I have also begun hearing the word ‘vampir’ as well,” the woman explained. 

L remembered reading the term ‘ubir’ before. It was a Turkish word, a reference to a mythological being that fed off of the life force of others. 

“You described saving me as forfeiting my right to death forever. Does that mean I’m… immortal?” L asked. 

The woman nodded. “Yes. You will never grow old, you will never catch disease, you will never require food or drink again. The only thing you will need to sustain your life is to drink the blood of humans,” she explained, drawing out some Japanese characters in perfect calligraphy. “If you are desperate, you may also feed off of animals. But this will not satiate you for long, and I do not recommend it unless you have no other choice, as it will weaken you as well.” 

A part of L wondered if he was still dreaming. But somehow, he was more grounded in reality than he had ever been before. 

“What else do I need to know?” He asked. 

The woman paused her writing, eyes flitting over to him. A small smile quirked at the corners of her lips. “I’m surprised. You’re taking this better than most,” she commented. L wasn’t sure how to reply to that, but he was saved from having to think about it for too long before the woman spoke again. 

“Your biggest worry will be sunlight. Many myths say creatures like us burn in the sun. Once again, these aren’t entirely accurate. We are very sensitive to the sun, and prolonged exposure will scorch your skin. But you can withstand it for short periods at a time. My recommendation is if you have to be out during the day, wear long coats and hats to shade your face. As you grow older, you will not be as vulnerable to the sun. But it will be centuries before you can walk in daylight without concern.” 

She said it so casually. Centuries. He would be living through centuries.

“Why do I sound different?” L then asked. 

The woman chuckled. “The transformation changes you. Makes you more alluring to prey. Go look in that mirror over there and you’ll see.” 

It was only then that L noticed the small hand mirror sitting opposite the woman on the table she was working at. Slowly, he got up, worried that his legs wouldn’t support him after his injuries. But he was surprised to find that he was as strong as ever. There was no dizziness, and no spots dancing across his vision. 

When he picked up the small hand mirror, the metal wasn’t cool against his skin like he had expected. Instead, it felt like the same temperature he was. 

But L didn’t think about that for long before his eyes caught sight of his reflection. 

It was still undoubtedly him. But at the same time, it _wasn’t_. Where before his cheeks were hollow, thinned out by years of hunger, now his face was full and strong. His jawline was sharper than it had ever been, the lines of his face almost reminiscent to that of a statue. His hair had always been unruly, thinned out by malnutrition, but now it was thick and healthy. His skin was so smooth, it reminded him of alabaster. Not a single blemish could be seen on his face. His eyes were already dark, but now they seemed to almost be pure black, and glittered with the promise of a mystery. Underneath his eyes sat dark circles, making it seem as though he hadn’t slept for weeks. Yet somehow, this didn’t detract from his appearance. 

There was almost something… unearthly to him. As a frown pinched his brows, the movement in his face seemed too perfect. Like it was rehearsed. 

L still looked like himself, but he didn’t look human anymore. 

“How do humans not notice us?” L said, not even thinking as he left himself out of the description of ‘humans’. 

“You’d be surprised what they will not notice,” the woman explained. “Even those who knew you before will only wonder how they didn’t realize your beauty until now.” She paused her writing again, and set her brush down. “Very rarely, you will meet a human that is more perceptive than most. They will know something is off about you, and almost always they will avoid you.” 

“Have any humans ever figured out what you are?” L asked. 

The woman shook her head. “Not unless I’m feeding on them.” 

Well, that made sense at least. 

“What time is it?” L then asked, realizing he had no idea how long he’d been asleep for. 

“It’s nearly evening,” the woman said. “Your ship is almost finished loading. I was going to wake you if you didn’t wake up on your own.” 

L’s eyes widened. He had to go back to the ship with his crewmates and pretend like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t witnessed his first friend get brutally murdered the night before. Like he wasn’t now burdened with the knowledge that he was going to live forever. 

Still, L forced himself to grab his suitcase and throw his few belongings inside. The woman didn’t watch him, simply continued her calligraphy without a care. 

L pulled on a thick coat he had brought for the colder days along with a hat, hoping this would be enough to cover him from the setting sun. Then, with the rest of his things gathered, he stood up, preparing to leave. 

Before he could touch the door handle though, he paused, realizing he still had a few more things he needed to know. 

“How often do I need to, um, feed to keep myself healthy?” He asked, wondering if he was going to be able to survive the next several months at sea. 

“You’re newborn currently, so you should probably feed sometime before the end of the week, just so you’re able to adjust to the sensation and learn how to control yourself. But on average, if you completely drain a human, you should be alright for about a month. If you leave them with enough blood to remain alive though, then you should be feeding about two to three times a month.” 

“How do I keep them from turning me in though if I do leave them alive?” L asked. 

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. More often than not, the memory of being fed on is hazy. Most humans simply think of it as a bad dream. But you must be careful to never feed on the same human twice, or else they will realize it wasn’t a dream after all.” 

“I understand,” L said. He tipped his hat at the woman, preparing to leave once more, when he realized one more thing. 

“My friend… what did you do with him? After I fell unconscious?” 

The woman pursed her lips. “I made it appear as though he was stabbed during a mugging. His family has already retrieved the body, and they’re already attempting to find out who the culprit was. That’s why it’s imperative for you to get on that ship, because if you remain here someone is bound to mention the fact that you were the last person seen with him.” 

L winced. That meant he likely couldn’t come back here in a year. It’s not like it mattered though. The only reason he wanted to come back at all was to see Light. But Light was gone.

“Thank you, for all your help,” L said after a moment. 

“Come back in a hundred years, then tell me if you still feel grateful towards me then,” the woman whispered, not looking up from her paper. 

Not knowing how to respond to that, L simply nodded once more at the woman and left the room. 

When he made his way out of the inn and towards the docks, despite the hat and the coat, he could still feel the sun's rays against his skin in an almost oppressive way. It was like when someone sits out on a hot summer day for a long period of time, and they can feel the sun baking their skin until it becomes red and sensitive to the touch. 

L could only hope the woman was right, and this would get better as he got older. 

His crewmates gave him a few odd looks as he boarded the ship. A few did double takes as he walked past, obviously noticing the way his face had changed yet stayed the same, but he didn’t acknowledge them. Instead, he rushed straight to his quarters, eager to get away from the sun. 

By the time the ship was pulling out of the harbor though, the sun had set and L was able to stand out on the deck to watch Japan’s coastline disappear. He thought back to Light, how the woman had just been a few moments too late to save his life. 

He wondered what things could’ve been like, if she had gotten there a minute earlier. Would they both be like this now? Would he remain in Japan, trying to get a grasp on this new state of existence? Or would Light have refused her offer, choosing instead to embrace death. 

It didn’t matter now. Light was dead, and L was the furthest thing from it. 

Now he just had to wait to see how his eternity would play out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok here are some fun history facts that I figured might get questioned in this chapter
> 
> The word 'vampire' wasn't actually used until the early 1700s, and this chapter takes place in 1655, therefore L doesn't have a word for what he is besides similar mythological creatures like the woman who turned L mentioned
> 
> also you might be wondering, 'Dear author, weren't prostitutes/courtesans in old Japan called geisha?' Well, geisha weren't explicitly prostitutes, and were more entertainers. Some provided sexual services, but the geisha didn't come into existence until the 1800s. Before that, oiran was the title for Japanese prostitutes/entertainers, and they had specific titles to denote who the oiran serviced. The women who serviced Dutch sailors were known as oranda-yuki specifically. 
> 
> also this chapter takes place in Edo period Japan, where homosexuality wasn't really an issue! while men were expected to have a wife and bear children, it wasn't really an issue if a guy also made out with his bro on the side. samurai were even encouraged to have relationships with other men! so if you're wondering why Light didn't really care about kissing L in the middle of the street, that's why
> 
> as far as my personal vampire lore for this story: vampires do not get burnt by the sun and really just get bad sunburns, they can eat and drink though they don't have a very strong sense of taste and it doesn't provide any nutritional benefit for them, they can drink animal blood but it doesn't fill them up that much, they can see themselves in mirrors, garlic has no effect on them, neither do any Catholic symbols, and while they are stronger than humans they're not like... strong enough to lift up a tank or something. I'll reveal more details about vampires in this universe though (because I have special notes for them regarding shinigami and the Death Note)
> 
> anyway please leave comments if you enjoyed!! I have a lot of other things on my plate rn so I really don't know how regular updates will be, but comments always encourage me to push an update out faster :)


	2. and it repeats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An overview of the next few centuries in L Lawliet's life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! I come to you all with a LONG chapter!
> 
> thank you all so much for the kind feedback you left on the last chapter. I'm really glad you're enjoying this concept so far and I hope you stick around for what's to come :)

The second time L met Light Yagami, a new century had come, and it had been a little over fifty years since L had begun his life as an immortal. 

In that time, many things had changed for L Lawliet. On his journey back to England from Japan, he had learned many things about his new nature. He learned the finer details of how to feed, he gradually figured out how to best weather the torment of the sun, he realized that not only did being a creature like this enhance his vision and hearing, but it also increased his physical strength as well. 

When the ship finally docked back in The Netherlands, L thanked the crew for hiring him, and promptly left with no promise to return. He ended up back in England, and somehow, years began to fly by like minutes. He tried out new jobs like clothes, trying to find some source of income that wouldn’t bore him to death. 

L became many things over those years. He was a laborer, he was a farmhand, he moonlighted as a plague doctor during a brief resurgence of the bubonic plague, and at one point he even managed to weasel his way in as a priest (now that was a bit ironic). 

Eventually though, L found his place. 

L spent many nights wandering the streets of London, either looking for his next meal, or simply enjoying the city in the only hours he could do so comfortably. But what he didn’t realize about spending his nights out in the streets, was that he began to notice things many didn’t. He blended into shadows, and found himself a witness to many crimes. Muggings, fleeing thieves, L saw it all. 

One night, he saw a man running down a back alley, with a large bag clutched in his hand that jangled with every moment. The next day, he heard about a wealthy noblewoman whose jewels had been stolen in the night. All it took was a bit of retracing the robber’s route based on where L had seen him, and he was able to deliver the man to the woman by that following evening. 

The detective on that case was an elderly man. He had white hair and soft wrinkles stretching across his face. Despite his age though, he had a broad build, and towered almost everyone else in the room. 

There was something else about him though that caught L’s attention. The smoothness of his skin, the gleam of his eyes… it almost reminded L of himself. 

The two had left the noblewoman’s house at the same time, after the thief had been taken into custody. The sun had set long ago, and there was no one around but the two of them. 

The elderly detective didn’t look over when he spoke. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve found someone else like myself,” the man had said, an amused smile stretched under his mustache. 

“I don’t quite understand your meaning, sir,” L had responded carefully, unsure if he was complimenting his detective skills, or commenting on the type of creatures they were. 

“You don’t have to watch your words with me. As you get older you’ll get better at spotting others of our kind,” the man explained. “You’re not even a century old yet, are you?” 

L supposed that answered his silent question. 

“No, I was turned about 30 years prior,” L told him, the worry lifting off his chest. “What about you?” 

This made the man laugh. “I’ve been around for a while, that’s all I’ll say on that,” he said, his deep voice rumbling with silent laughter. “Who was your sire?” 

“I never got her name,” L said quietly. “I was in Japan as a translator for a Dutch sailing ship. I was attacked, but my life was saved by a courtesan, who happened to be one of us.” 

The elderly man’s smile fell away, and he stopped his walking. L stopped as well, and saw the old man bring his hand to his chin in thought. 

“I wonder if it could be her…” he muttered to himself. 

“Who?” L questioned. 

“It’s probably just an old man wondering, but you’d be unsurprised to hear most of us aren’t sure of where we originated from. The only rumors I’ve heard involve a woman from Japan being one of the first,” he explained. “But I’m sure it was just a coincidence.” 

He picked up his walking again, and L hurried to keep up. This man clearly knew more than he was letting on, and it was the first time since he had been turned that he had gotten a chance to learn more about his kind. 

“So, you’re a detective like myself?” The man asked after a few minutes of silence had passed. 

“Not really. I was wandering near here last night and just happened to see the robber make his escape. After hearing about the incident today, I deduced his route from the location I had seen him at, and theorized where he could be hiding. When I went to check, I saw my hypothesis was correct, and brought him to you all.” 

This made the old man chuckle. “You’re not a detective, and yet you have a detective’s mind.” 

L frowned. “I never thought of myself having a detective’s mind.” 

“You do. There are hundreds of different ways that man could’ve gone after you spotted him, and yet through logical reasoning, you found him before I had even been able to set up a proper investigation. That is a detective’s mind.” 

Huh… L had never thought about it that way. To him, his line of reasoning had been natural. That’s how he always solved issues. Weighing the probabilities in his mind, pitting all factors against each other to deduce what the answer most likely was. 

“What do you do as a profession?” The man asked. 

L shrugged. “I float around, here and there. At the moment I’m working as an assistant to an artisan that makes furniture.” 

“You don’t anymore,” the old man said. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean a mind like yours shouldn’t be wasted.” He stopped walking again, and turned to face L. “I will train you as a detective, and you will find it more rewarding, more interesting, more _engaging_ than any other career you’ve done before.” 

The idea almost seemed too good to be true. Boredom was all L knew these days. The only things that piqued his interest was having the chance to use his mind. 

And this man was offering to give him a job where that was all he would do. Use his mind to its fullest capabilities. 

“Alright then,” L agreed. He held out a hand to shake. “My name is L.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, L,” the man said, gripping L’s hand in his own. “You can call me Wammy.” 

After that fateful evening, L had found something new in Wammy. 

The man became a mentor to him. It turned out, Wammy was one of the wealthiest men in London. His library was envied by universities all over the world, and L was given full access to the texts buried there. Along with that, he spent most of his days studying with L, taking the time to teach him different ways to use his mind, how to hone in on his deductive reasoning and sharpen it to a razor point. 

Eventually, L actually began to work as a detective. In the beginning, Wammy guided him through cases, showing him what to look for, how to notice people’s tells. But L picked the skills up almost faster than Wammy could explain them, and soon L was becoming one of the most well-renowned private detectives in London. 

Wammy had been correct. L found detective work to be more interesting than any other career he’d tried in the past. There was something exhilarating about working through an impossible case, pulling out the individual pieces and finding out where each of them fit into the larger puzzle. It was almost like a game for L, and he enjoyed every second of it. 

Time began to pass even faster than it had before. Soon, another twenty years had passed, and the time had come for Wammy and L to fake their deaths. 

When L had been working as a simple laborer or farmhand, it was easy to slip between the cracks unnoticed. If someone began to question his age, he could just leave and go to the country for a few years. By the time he came back, everyone had forgotten about him, and he was free to go about his business. 

But now, L the detective was a well-known name. Wammy’s detective persona—Watari—was similarly renowned. People were beginning to wonder how a man as old as Watari was still working this long, while L was getting comments of “wow, you look young for your age” more and more frequently. 

Wammy had apparently done this trick many times over. He explained to L that he had another house in Northern England, under an alternate name where they could resume their lives as normal for the next ten years. But for the time being, he had to set up a way to fake their deaths here. 

In the end, the solution was for L to go traveling for two years. While overseas, Wammy would tell everyone who knew them that he had been in an unfortunate accident while traveling and passed away. Then, after a bit more time passed to avoid suspicion, Wammy would fake his own death and flee to his home in Northern England. 

By the time L came back, Wammy will have successfully re-established himself in Northern England, and will introduce L as his son who just returned from traveling. 

Although L didn’t plan to return to Japan, he somehow wound back up on a Dutch trading ship. Once again he was a translator, although he could pay his own way if he chose. But translating at least would give him something to do, considering he was going to be taking a break from the detective work for the next two years. 

Despite the fact that it had been over fifty years since the last time he had undertaken this journey, little had seemed to change. They once again stopped in that colony located on the Southern tip of Africa, but the past fifty years had changed the place. What had been a small, newly established colony last time L had visited, was now a bustling hub of trade. Before, the locals had been pastoral people, keeping out of the main Cape in favor of remaining with their herds. But now, the locals all seemed to reside in the main city, and L couldn’t help but wonder what the Dutch had done to them in such a short time to change their lifestyles so drastically. 

They didn’t remain in the Cape for long. After resupplying, the ship launched off once more. To L’s surprise, the crew left him alone for most of the journey. He stayed in his room during the day, and only came out onto the deck at night. Being in direct sunlight wasn’t as much of an issue for him now as it had been the last time he had been on a ship, but it was still uncomfortable, so he preferred to stick to the shade whenever possible. 

The ship had a few more stops before reaching Japan. Hoi An, Sadras, and Malacca. Then, finally, Dejima. 

To L’s surprise, the walled-off city that sat on the tip of Nagasaki had not changed very much in the time he’d been gone. Yes, there were more shops, the architecture had changed slightly, and there seemed to be a more active trade occurring. But otherwise, it was nearly the same as in his memory. 

His first night there, the other sailors had asked L to join them for drinks. He declined, ignoring their protests and questioning looks. He didn’t care to spend time with the sailors, frankly. As soon as he had stepped off that boat there had been something he’d wanted to do, and he wasn’t going to waste a second longer than he had to. 

It was almost too easy to find the spot. His feet carried him there on memory, L’s eyes darting between the spot on the ground where he had nearly bled out, and the wall he and Light had been pressed up against only seconds before. 

Even now, he could hear Light’s voice in his mind. 

_I can already tell this next year is going to be unbearable without you._

It had been much longer than a year. It had been half a century, and yet, L had found his way back. 

Steadying himself with a breath, L stepped up to the wall, squeezing his eyes shut as the memories danced behind his eyes. His lips tingled with the memory of their kiss, and slowly, L let his head fall against the cool wall. 

L wasn’t sure how long he stood there for. It could’ve been minutes, or it could’ve been hours. It didn’t matter though. L just focused on the memories. 

Eventually, L managed to force himself to step away. He had relived the moment enough, although he had a feeling he would visit the spot several more times before leaving Dejima. It surprised him, how much he missed Light. The past fifty something years had been a blur of understanding his place as a vampire (that was the new word Europe was using to describe their kind) and also engrossing himself in detective work with Wammy. While he had thought of Light many times, the ache had never been so present as it was now. 

Even now, he could still remember the last smile Light had given him. The one that told him things would be okay. 

L made it back to the house he was staying in with the other sailors. He could hear loud and abrasive laughter coming from the main room inside, and L took a deep breath to steady himself before he opened the doors. 

As expected, the Dutch men were drunk off of rice wine. They were sitting in the main room, laughing as they discussed something that seemed to be regarding one of the courtesans that had been there earlier. A few Japanese officials were scattered around the room as well, holding their own cups of wine and laughing right along with the sailors. Technically, they weren’t supposed to be drinking with the Dutch, but it seemed even they were alright with taking a breather every now and again. 

Having no desire to join the men, L was about to turn for his private room, when he heard a familiar voice. 

“Trust me, you should avoid getting on the oranda-yuki’s bad sides if possible. Those women know how to hold a grudge better than any sailor I’ve ever met.” The man was speaking in Dutch, yet he had a heavy Japanese accent on top of it. But that wasn’t what caught L’s attention. It was that he _knew_ that voice. 

L turned his head towards the group, and it was all too easy to spot him. There, sitting and laughing with the rest of the sailors, was _Light_. Reddish brown hair, piercing brown eyes, and a face made up of all sharp angles and points. 

The last time L had seen him, he had been bleeding out in the middle of the street. And yet… he was here. Laughing, drinking, _alive_. 

L’s breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t possible. The woman had told him he was dead. L had seen Light die with his own two eyes. There had been nothing left after the vampire had drained him. He was an empty shell, L would’ve known if he was still alive. 

But maybe the woman had lied to him. Was it possible that she had turned both of them, and simply decided not to tell L? That didn’t make sense, because L had no idea why she would lie to him about that. But it was the only logical explanation, given that it had been fifty years and Light still looked the same as he had the last time L had seen him. 

No one noticed L standing in the corner of the room. A part of L wanted to rush forward, to grab Light by the arm and tell him he had survived the attack as well. But he knew that would create too many questions from the other sailors, and L didn’t want to risk whatever Light’s position here was. He could wait for the others to filter out, and somehow draw Light’s attention so he could recognize him. In the meantime, he would just wait. 

The waiting brought about new questions though. Thanks to Wammy’s mentorship, L had figured out how to spot others of his kind with ease. A gracefulness in their limbs, the way their pale skin almost glittered under direct light, the unnatural beauty L had first noticed when he had seen his transformed face. 

Light… didn’t have any of those traits. Yes, he was exactly how L remembered him, but that was precisely the issue. If he had been turned by the woman, he wouldn’t look exactly the same. He would be paler, his hair would be thicker, that ethereal beauty would be obvious compared to the rough visages of the sailors around him. 

The more L watched, the deeper the realization sunk in. Light wasn’t a vampire. There was no way around that. He was a human. But that wasn’t possible. If Light had somehow survived the attack _and_ retained his humanity, he’d be an elderly man by now, even more wrinkled and grey than Wammy. 

At one point, one of the other Japanese officials in the room called out a Japanese name, and Light’s head swung towards the man. It wasn’t the name L had known him by the last time they’d met. 

But what really confirmed the truth for L was when Light just happened to glance his way. Their eyes met, and L refused to flinch. He searched those familiar eyes, waiting for some hint of recognition, some spark to indicate that Light remembered him. 

There was nothing. 

Instead, not-Light waved him over, saying something in Dutch about joining the fun. One of the sailors shoved a cup of rice wine in his hand, and L downed it eagerly. 

He spent the rest of the night in a haze. L watched the man that wasn’t Light, trying to find something concrete to distinguish him from the man of his past. Despite the fact that he had a different name (and apparently a different occupation, given his uniform), everything about him was eerily similar to the Light he knew so long ago. The way he spoke, the gestures he made with his hands, the way his eyes lit up when someone posed a challenging question… it was him. And yet it wasn’t. 

L vaguely knew about the concept of reincarnation. He had seen the phrase in passing, during one of his study sessions in Wammy’s library. He understood it as the idea of being reborn after death. Getting a second chance at life. L had never heard of it resulting in the person looking identical to their past self, but it wasn’t something that could be proven in a logical way. 

Or maybe, L was just being foolish. It was also possible that this man just happened to be a descendant of Light’s family. L had heard about faces reappearing in families every few generations. If anything, that had to be what this was. Just a descendant of the man L once knew. 

Eventually, all the other sailors had filtered out of the main room to the boarding house. The other Japanese officials headed out as well, either going back to their own homes on the island or making rounds to check with the guards. The only two that remained were Light and L. 

“You don’t look like a sailor,” Light commented at one point. 

“That’s because I’m not,” L replied, switching to Japanese since the sailors were no longer around. 

Light’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re a translator?” He asked, also switching to Japanese. 

“That’s what I’m working as currently, yes,” L answered. It was odd, talking to this man who looked exactly like Light, because it made L feel like it was 50 years prior. He knew going to Dejima was going to be like stepping into the past for him, but he didn’t think it would be in this literal of a sense. 

More than anything, it surprised L how much it hurt. To be so close to someone who he had thought of so often, only to have to remind himself he was speaking to a complete stranger. 

“Your Japanese is very good, have you been here before?” 

_Yes. And you’re the one who helped me improve my Japanese,_ L thought to himself. If only it really was him. Things would be so much simpler. 

“Once, many years ago,” L answered, deciding not to give any further detail than that. 

Thankfully, Light didn’t push further, and instead changed subjects. 

“You said you’re only currently working as a translator. I take that to mean you have another career?” 

L ran his fingers around the edge of his sake cup, finding it easier to focus on that than to look at Light. 

“Yes, I do. I speak Dutch but I’m actually from England, and when I’m there I work as a detective.” 

“A detective?” Light sounded surprised. “That’s impressive. What’s an English detective doing working as a translator for a Dutch sailing ship?” 

Thankfully, L had already had an answer for this question thanks to Wammy. 

“While I’ve been involved in detective work since I was a teenager, I actually just finished up my academic studies. My father suggested that I travel the world for a year or two before coming back to England and settling down to establish my own business,” L recited. 

“Is that common for European men? To travel before starting one’s own career?” Light asked.. 

L supposed that wouldn’t make much sense to a Japanese man, given the fact that almost all Japanese people were restricted to remaining in their own country. It was a rarity even to be allowed on Dejima, as it was the only place in Japan where foreigners were allowed to be. 

“It’s not extremely common, but it’s not unheard of for wealthier families,” L explained, taking another sip of his sake. 

Light nodded, an understanding look flashing across his face. “I see.” 

He didn’t elaborate further on that. L waited for him to speak again, to ask him another question, but the conversation was at a lull. 

“What about you? How did you get involved with government work?” L asked when it became clear Light wasn’t going to speak further. 

“My father holds a position in government. It was only natural I follow his footsteps,” Light shrugged. “But I also have ideas of my own, regarding politics. For now I have to work here to climb my way up, but I hope I’ll be able to have some real input on policy in a few years.” 

Now this made L raise his eyebrows. With the other Light, he had barely mentioned the politics of Japan save for a single passing comment about rising taxes. Now to hear that this man was interested in having a say in policy told L that maybe this Light and the old Light weren’t as similar as he thought. 

“Anything in particular you want to be able to have input on?” L asked. 

Light glanced around the room, checking to make sure they were alone. It wasn’t outright forbidden for the Japanese to discuss politics with foreigners, but it wasn’t encouraged either. The Japanese were very strict about keeping their culture protected from outside influence, and L couldn’t blame them. The Dutch had already damaged the culture of their colony in the Cape of Africa, and he was sure it was the same case for many of the colonies Europeans had set up around the globe. 

When Light figured it was safe, he looked back to L. 

“Our farming yields have been increasing at a steady rate for a while now, and it doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. But because of this, there’s more talk of raising taxes on farmers, so the daimyo’s can stay out of debt. Personally, I don’t think that’s fair to the farmers. So I’d hope I could have a hand in limiting the amount that taxes can be raised before things get out of hand.” 

Once again Light had an interest in rising taxes, but this time he was trying to do something about it. 

“You have a strong sense of justice, it seems,” L commented. 

Light paused, considering this for a moment. He tapped his chin, staring into the clear pool of liquor that sat in his porcelain cup. 

“Yeah, I suppose you could put it like that,” he murmured. Another beat of silence passed, and Light downed the rest of the cup before pushing himself to his feet. “I should probably get going through. I need to finish some paperwork.” 

L nodded, also rising to his feet. “I should retire as well. It’s getting rather late,” he agreed, although it wasn’t as if he needed to sleep. He turned on his heel to head down the hallway to his room, when Light’s voice stopped him once more. 

“I didn’t catch your name,” Light called out. 

“You can call me L,” he responded. 

Light bowed at him, which L knew was a Japanese form of greeting, and mirrored the action. 

“It was a pleasure to meet you, L. Hopefully I’ll see you around?” 

A pang shot through L’s chest at the word _hopefully_. This wasn’t his Light. He had no right to get excited about this. 

“I’m sure you will,” L called back, waving a hand behind him before ducking into his room. 

That night, sitting alone in his room, L wished with near desperation that vampires could sleep. Usually, the inability to sleep didn’t bother him. But that was because he almost always spent his nights working on whatever case he was handling at the time. Hours would be lost pouring over his notes, analyzing maps and reading through suspect lists. 

Here though, he had nothing to keep his mind occupied. Sure, he had brought some texts from Wammy’s library with him, but whenever he opened one up, his mind would just be drawn back to Light. 

Was it reincarnation? Or was it just a similar looking relative? In the past, L would’ve scoffed at the notion of considering reincarnation to be a legitimate explanation. But that was before he was turned into an immortal, and realized the world was not what he had originally thought it to be. 

When the first rays of dawn’s light broke through the clouds, L had scribbled out several pages of notes. Usually, he only took notes like this while working on cases. However, since he didn’t have any real mysteries to solve, this _was_ his case. 

L knew he wouldn’t be able to quiet his mind until he knew whether or not this was really his Light. So, he was going to do everything he could to find a definite answer to that.

♰⁜♰

The next day came, and with it, more mindless translation work. Because Dejima had their own translators on hand, it wasn’t exactly necessary for L to even be here at all. But he was here, and someone had to figure out how to translate the invoices written in Dutch into Japanese. 

L could speak Japanese fluently at this point. But he hadn’t gotten much practice writing it. While he had put a lot of effort into learning how to read Japanese, writing it himself was a whole other story. 

It was so different from writing in English or Dutch. The way he was supposed to hold a brush, the method for how to control the ebb and flow of the ink, knowing when to make the line thicker or thinner—it was a skill that took lots of time to develop. And while L had certainly used the books in Wammy’s library to practice, he still wasn’t the best. 

Late afternoon sun filtered into the office L was working in. All around him, other translators (some from Chinese ships, some Japanese citizens stationed in Dejima) were working on documents similar to his own. No one spoke to each other. The only sounds were people breathing, and the occasional sound of a brush stroking against paper. 

Heavy footsteps sounded by the door to the office, followed by the wood creaking as someone new entered the room. L didn’t bother to look up. He was focused on trying to get this stroke of ink right. 

“I thought I’d find you here.” 

L’s breath hitched in his throat, and he whipped around to see Light standing above him. He was watching L with a smirk, gaze flickering down to where he was attempting to write out the next line in his text. 

“Ah, yes, a translator working in the translator’s office. You must be very renowned for your deductive reasoning skills,” L replied sarcastically before freezing. Technically, he had only just met this man yesterday. Even though it felt like someone he was close with, Light wasn’t going to see it that way, and he had just insulted him. 

But to his relief, Light laughed. 

“I suppose I deserved that,” Light joked. 

At least he had taken the comment with humor, but L wasn’t exactly sure what to say next. He certainly wasn’t going to push his luck and sass him again. So instead he settled for the obvious. 

“Am I needed somewhere?” He asked Light, setting down his brush to face him fully. 

Light’s smile faded, but the amusement in his eyes remained there all the same. 

“Oh, no, not at all. I just came by to, uh,” Light began glancing around nervously, as if he wasn’t really sure himself as to why he had sought L out. 

“I came by to ask if you’ve been given a proper tour of the island?” Light asked, raising his eyebrows at L. 

...well, L hadn’t been expecting that. 

Of course L knew his way around Dejima. Not just because he’d been there before, but because it wasn’t really a large town in the first place. Technically, it couldn’t even be classified as a town. It was an artificial island created off the tip of Nagasaki for the sole purpose of having a place for foreign sailors to stay during trade. Honestly, Wammy’s estate was larger than the entire thing. The idea of getting lost on Dejima was laughable. 

So L knew why Light was really offering to give him a tour. He wanted an excuse to spend time with L, and this seemed to be the only reason he could come up with. A part of this amused L, the fact that Light, ever the smooth talker, couldn’t come up with a better excuse to talk to L. 

Glancing towards the window, L eyed the afternoon sun warily. Sunset wasn’t too far off, but a walk around Dejima still wouldn’t be comfortable. 

L looked back to Light, and any hesitation he had immediately crumbled. Even if this wasn’t his Light, the similarities were so uncanny, it felt as though he were finally getting to reconnect with the man he had missed for so many years. He could let himself indulge in this, just for this trip. 

“No, I’ve yet to receive a tour,” L said, putting away his brush and weighing down his paper. “But I’m free right now, if you are as well?” 

Light grinned. “Yes, I am. Let’s get going.” 

The tour never really was a tour. Rather, it was Light and L talking to each other as they paced around Dejima several times over. Light told him about his childhood, his education, how he learned both Chinese and Dutch. L in turn told him a fabricated childhood, describing Wammy as a caring but expectant father, and detailing some rather entertaining cases he had worked on for Light’s amusement. 

As the sun waned, most of the government officials and sailors disappeared into their respective houses, but Light and L continued to talk. Eventually they moved into one of the boarding houses to drink sake and eat dinner, but they didn’t join the other sailors, instead remaining in a private corner. 

Just like 50 years prior, Light and L had a silent understanding with one another. While L had improved his social skills slightly since his last time meeting Light, he still wasn’t great at it. But that didn’t matter to Light. He never berated L for not picking up on his more subtle cues, and when describing his cases, Light would often figure out the culprit before L had even told him who it was. 

The more they talked to one another, the more convinced L became that this had to be some reincarnated version of his friend. 

Eventually, the night came to a close, and the two said their goodbyes once more. 

Then… the pattern repeated for the next few days. 

L would spend his days working in the translation office. At some point in the late afternoon to early evening, Light would appear, citing some excuse to go out and talk with L. And the two would spend the evening together. Chatting about various things, learning about each other, just… enjoying each other’s company. 

This time, L was only staying in Dejima for two weeks. It was going to be next to impossible to leave. But he didn’t want to think about that yet. 

At the end of his first full week in Dejima, two very important things happened. 

First, L was pulled off of translation work, and given an actual case to work on. 

Apparently, some of the other sailors had let it slip to the Japanese officials that he was a detective. According to the government officials, someone in their ranks was purposefully altering tax documents, making it seem that peasants had paid their taxes when they actually hadn’t. 

The government officials didn’t want to bring samurai into this, as they believed it was a small issue they could settle themselves. But so far, their investigation into the matter had turned up virtually no leads. L was essentially their last option before going to the samurai to figure out who the culprit was. 

So now, L had to figure out who the forger was. He really didn’t have much to go on, other than interviewing all of the officials on the island and analyzing handwriting samples. But it was something more interesting than translation work at the very least. 

The second major thing that happened involved Light. 

Not long after receiving the information that he was going to be working on a case while staying in Dejima, Light found him and the two of them began their evening walk around the island like usual. However, there was something off about Light. He kept glancing at L, like he wanted to ask him about something but wasn’t sure how to word it. 

Eventually, L decided to question this directly. 

“You seem a bit off today. Are you alright?” L asked, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. 

“I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep very well last night,” Light explained. He glanced at L again, that same questioning look on his face, and L waited for him to continue. 

After a few moments, his patience was rewarded. 

“I actually had a strange dream. You were in it, oddly enough.” 

L raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What were we doing in the dream?” 

“We were walking around Dejima, like we do every day,” Light explained. “It was late at night, and things seemed to be rather calm. But then we were attacked. I don’t remember the specifics, but I just remember being pinned against a wall by a man while you were on the ground.” 

Suddenly, L’s mouth ran dry. That… sounded familiar. Too familiar. 

He couldn’t be having dreams about what happened the last time L was there. Light had _died_ and this wasn’t him. How could he remember that? 

Once again, the idea of reincarnation presented itself in L’s mind. That this was the Light he had known, having been reborn for a second chance at life. Slowly, all the lingering doubts about that theory were fading away from L’s mind. This had to be him. There was no other explanation. 

After a few moments, L realized he had been so caught up in his own thoughts, he’d forgotten to respond. 

“That’s a terrible dream,” L commented, forcing himself to keep his voice level. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

“It was just a dream,” Light replied with a shrug. 

But it wasn’t just a dream. It couldn’t have been. But there was no way for Light to know that. 

Over the next few days, Light began to have more strange dreams. Most of them were of that fateful night, but others seemed to be from the rest of the time L and Light had spent together during L’s first trip there. 

This Light was never able to remember the details specifically. He never remembered what they talked about or what exactly was going on when they were attacked, but he was able to describe scenes enough to where L would recognize it. 

In other new developments unrelated to Light, L was actually managing to make headway in his case. Through several interviews and a bit of handwriting analysis on the forgeries, L was narrowing down the suspects list. 

Light wasn’t very interested in the case it seemed. Despite L’s attempts to talk to him about theories or suspects, Light would simply brush him off, saying they should just let the samurai handle it considering that wasn’t L’s job here. L had to admit he had a point there. But he’d much rather be doing detective work than have to translate another paper. 

Technically, Light was on the suspects list. But L hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that Light could be the forger in question. Light just didn’t seem like the type to risk his career like that. He had a goal, and wasting his time with petty forgery would put that goal at risk. 

About halfway through L’s second week in Dejima, Light kissed him over a cup of sake. L hadn’t been able to find it in himself to push Light back. 

This also became a regular part of their evening routine. Walk, talk, and kiss. The other Japanese officials never spared them a second glance when they spotted the two of them holding hands or tucked into a shadowy corner entangled in one another. But the two were careful to keep their relationship hidden from the Dutch sailors L was traveling with. Lord knew they wouldn’t react well to that. 

Somehow, for a few days, life just became… normal for L. He worked on his case in the day, and would spend his evenings with Light. For just a small window of time, he was able to forget about all the complications in his life. The fact that he was leaving Dejima in a few days, the fact that this Light was very likely a reincarnation of his friend, the fact that he was an immortal being who would live well past this Light’s lifespan—he didn’t have to think about any of that. 

Then, he made a breakthrough in the case. 

Light was one of the final interviews he’d performed. Overall, it went rather smoothly, if one ignored the fact that the two kept shooting flirty remarks at each other in between questions. But there were a few comments Light had made, a few _discrepancies_ in the dates he reported for certain filings that L took notice of. 

All of the other suspects had been crossed out. So when it came down to the last piece of evidence, the handwriting sample, L had prayed it wouldn’t match Light. 

...but of course it did. 

It was L’s last night in Dejima when he figured it out. He sat at his desk, staring at Light’s handwriting samples and comparing it with the forgeries for hours, desperate to find something to prove that they weren’t the same. But he couldn’t find anything to disprove it. There was no one else to pin it on either. Every other official was rock solid. 

L even knew his motivation. Light had mentioned before how he wanted to move up in government to make tax reforms. While L had thought that Light would never take a risk like forgery before getting to a higher position, it appeared he was wrong. 

Sitting at his desk, staring at the irrefutable evidence sitting in front of him, L felt like he was going to be sick. The Japanese officials were treating this as a very serious crime. While forgery wasn’t always a capital crime, apparently Light had been at this for a while. Nearly a year in fact. An extended period of time like that, combined with the fact that he was still a rather young employee of the government, made it very likely that were he to be convicted, he would receive a maximum punishment. 

L had solved the case. But he already knew he wasn’t going to tell the Japanese officials this. He had no obligation to solve this case. This was just a favor he was doing for the Japanese officials of Dejima. If he told them he was unable to figure out who the culprit was, he wouldn’t be punished. They would likely just thank him for his time and send him on his way. 

But what would happen to Light? After he left, would the samurai be brought in to investigate? And would they be able to deduce that Light was the culprit? 

Maybe he could find a way to destroy the evidence. Spill ink over the forged documents so they wouldn’t be able to recognize Light’s handwriting. Or maybe falsify what he said in his interview. 

This was ridiculous. If this was any other case, L would have no problem delivering the culprit to the authorities. Commit a crime, receive the punishment. That was justice. But things were different. L had just gotten Light back after losing him so long ago, and the idea of losing him a second time was near unbearable. 

L heard footsteps approaching him from behind, and he turned to see Light gently shutting the door to the office behind him. 

“How’s the investigation going, L?” Light asked, making his way towards L’s desk. 

Light opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He wasn’t sure what to say. Should he tell Light he knew? Or should he feign ignorance? 

As soon as he considered pretending not to have figured it out, he knew that wouldn’t work. Light knew L would have figured it out by now. He had probably been waiting this entire time for L to confront him about it. 

Resting his hands on the papers in front of him, L sighed and dropped his gaze from Light’s. 

“I’ve figured out who the forger is,” he said quietly. 

Beside him, he heard Light suck in a sharp breath. 

“Is that so?” 

L tapped his fingers along his desk. “You knew I was going to figure it out eventually.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact. 

Warm hands came to rest on his shoulders, and L fought the urge to melt into them. 

“Yeah, I knew,” Light responded in a soft voice. “So are you going to turn me in now?” 

“No, I don’t plan on it,” L answered coolly. 

The hands squeezed his shoulders. “Why… why not?” 

Shrugging, L brought one hand up to Light’s and interlaced their fingers together. “I don’t _have_ to solve this case, it’s not like your government is paying me to do this. For me, the party I enjoy most about detective work is figuring out the puzzle. Once I know who the culprit is, I don’t care so much what happens to them.” He turned around to look up at Light, and smiled. “Besides, I wouldn’t call forgery a morally reprehensible crime.” 

A small laugh escaped Light, but L could tell it was forced. “What are you going to do with your evidence then?” 

“I’m… not going to get rid of it, if that’s what you’re asking,” L said, the corners of his lips turning down. He might not be reporting his findings, but he wasn’t going to tamper with evidence. “You are going to need to find a way out of this. It’ll only be a matter of time before you’re figured out.” 

Light grimaced, and lowered his head so it was resting on L’s shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe try to get transferred out of Dejima before the samurai show up?” 

“That might be your best option,” L murmured, staring off into the distance. 

There really weren’t a lot of options for Light. He had gotten himself into a bad situation, and L could only do so much to put off the inevitable. 

But for tonight, L knew they should try not to think about that. It was his last night in Dejima, and likely the last time he was ever going to see Light. He had gotten a second chance, and his time was almost up. 

The two spent the evening as they had any other night—talking, laughing, drinking sake, among other things. L had compiled the evidence without writing out a conclusion for what he found, and left it at his desk. He made sure to bury Light’s handwriting sample at the bottom of the pile, and could only hope the other Japanese officials would wait a few days after he left before going through what he had gathered. 

Hopefully, that would be enough time for Light to get out of Dejima. 

But it seemed like even in a second life, Light did not have luck on his side. 

The next day, L was busy helping haul everything onto the ship. At one point he was pulled aside by the official who had assigned him to investigate the forgery, and L explained that he hadn’t been able to deduce anything concrete, and he was sorry for his failure. As expected, the man reassured him it was alright and thanked him for the help, leaving L to his loading work. 

Strangely though, L couldn’t seem to find Light anywhere. 

By the time sunset came, the ship was loaded and was making final preparations before setting off. L was wandering around the island, trying to find Light so he could say his goodbyes. 

Instead, the man who had originally assigned him to try and find the forger found him. 

“Oh, there you are,” the man exclaimed, as he stepped out of the translation office and hurried towards him. “I was worried you and your ship had left already.” 

“No, we’re about to set sail. I just wanted to say goodbye to someone before I left,” L explained. “Is something the matter?” 

The man grinned at him. “I just wanted to thank you again. I went through the evidence you had compiled, and I was able to identify the forger.” 

A rock dropped into L’s gut. He hadn’t expected it to be that fast. How on earth did he figure it out that fast? Didn’t this man have other things to attend to? 

“Oh, that’s great,” L muttered, forcing his voice to stay level. “Who is it?” 

_Please don’t say his name. Please don’t say his name,_ L pleaded silently. 

“His name is- oh, look, he’s right over there,” the man said, pointing up the street. 

L whipped around and a crushing weight fell on his shoulders as he saw a group of guards walking, Light pinned between them. 

“W-Where is he being led?” L stammered.

“To the gallows,” the man replied cheerfully. 

L’s breath caught in his throat. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. He thought Light might be able to get away this time. To get out of Dejima before they discovered him. If anything, he hadn’t expected an immediate execution. 

The guards and Light were approaching L and the official now, and when Light looked up and saw L, the tight-lipped poker face he was wearing crumbled. 

L wanted to apologize. He wanted to tell Light how terribly sorry he was for not getting rid of his handwriting sample. He wanted to kill the man beside him for ruining this. He wanted to scream at the universe for leading them to this point again. 

But L couldn’t say anything. The words were caught in his throat, and he couldn’t let the other officials be suspicious of him. 

The guards nodded at them as they walked by. L didn’t pay attention though. He only kept looking at Light, managing to mouth an _I’m sorry_ as he passed. 

Then… Light smiled at him. That same smile he had given L all that time ago, when his life force was being drained out of him, and L could do nothing but watch from the ground. 

_It’ll be okay._

Then, the guards turned a corner, and Light was gone. 

“Oh, you better get back to your ship, the sun has almost set,” the man then told L, cutting into his hazy thoughts. 

Absently, L nodded, still watching the empty spot where Light had been just moments before. He felt his feet begin to move of their own accord, leading him away from Dejima and towards the Dutch sailing ship he was supposed to be on. 

A part of L was tempted to try and get Light back by force. To go to the gallows, kill all the officials there, and escape with Light. But he only entertained these thoughts as fantasies. Although he could do it, there was no way that could turn out well in the end. If somehow he were able to fight off all the guards on the island and escape with Light to the ocean, where would they go from there? They certainly couldn’t get on the Dutch ship together, and Light didn’t even know L’s true nature, so the shock of that alone would likely ruin the plan entirely. 

No, this had been their ending all along. L had gotten a second chance to spend time with Light, but now their ending had to play out once more. 

Despite the setting sun baking against his back, L didn’t move off the deck of the ship as they began to move away from the coastline. He couldn’t see the gallows from here, but he still kept his eyes locked on the island, searching for any sign of Light. 

He stayed there until Japan’s coastline had long since disappeared. And he knew that by that point, Light had been executed. 

You’d think mourning someone for a second time would be easy. But it was anything but. 

L rarely left his quarters on the ship after that. The other sailors seemed to know to avoid him, because few tried to approach him after their departure from Japan. Every day when the sun peeked over the horizon, L would remember that he was responsible for Light’s death. The first time wasn’t his fault. But the second time was his own doing. 

After a certain point, L got off the Dutch ship at the port of Hoi An, Vietnam. L still had more than a year and a half to stay away from England, so he found no point in remaining on the Dutch ship, which was due to return to The Netherlands. 

So L began to travel on foot. He went through Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, eventually making his way into China. Months passed with L barely keeping track. It’s not like it mattered. Sure, he learned new languages, met new people, saw new things, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

L had only felt truly fulfilled at two points in his life. Once, when he was doing detective work with Wammy. The second, when he was with Light. And his detective work was what had led to Light’s death. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to solve cases again without thinking of the mistakes he had made. 

Eventually though… L’s mindset began to change. As time went on, and L continued to travel around the continent, he soon stopped waking up with guilt already heavy on his heart. He still blamed himself, he still regretted his actions, but it had happened and he couldn’t take it back. 

With time, L’s depression faded. He still missed Light. But he was able to accept what had occurred. He’d gotten his time with Light. He’d gotten closure, even if it wasn’t the kind of closure he wanted. 

When the two years ended, L found himself hitching a ride on a trade ship out of India and back to Europe. By the time he made it back to Northern England, he found himself sorely missing both his mentor, and the work they had done together, despite the bitter memories he now associated with being a detective. 

Wammy was glad to see him, and asked him for stories of his travels. L told him as much as he could, except he left out every detail regarding his time in Japan. Wammy didn’t need to know about Light. He didn’t want to hear what Wammy’s opinion on the situation would have been, because he knew that the older man would have disapproved of L refusing to turn Light in. 

Still, Wammy knew how to read him. L could tell that Wammy suspected something bad had happened, but he didn’t push L for more information, which he was grateful for. 

Slowly… normalcy returned. L and Wammy established themselves as a father son detective duo in their North England city, and went back to their usual routine of taking on cases. Now with regular cases to keep L’s attention, the years began to pass by like minutes. Soon, it was time for them to fake their deaths once more, and L to travel. 

L intended on traveling to the British colonies set up in the Americas considering he had already traveled extensively through Asia at this point. However, he ended up going through China, and somehow wound up on a Chinese trading ship headed for Japan once more. 

It wasn’t on purpose this time. It was just a series of incidents involving the British trade ship he was on springing a leak, and having the choice of either remaining in China for a few months for another British ship to come by, or to catch a Chinese ship to Japan. 

L wasn’t expecting to find him again. He had been granted a second chance with Light, and while he had screwed it up, that was it. A second chance. Lightning wasn’t going to strike twice, and Light wasn’t going to be reincarnated or whatever when L went to Dejima for the third time. 

And yet… he was there again. A different name on the same face. 

The feelings L had suppressed came back full force, and L found the two of them playing out the same game for the third time. This time, Light was a guard, but he sought L out whenever he got the chance, and L didn’t bother pretending like he had the strength to push him away. 

The dreams returned for Light as well, but this time they included dreams of being led around by guards, and having a noose tied around his throat. It was hard for L not to wince when he heard about those dreams, and even harder for him to pretend like he didn’t know full well why Light was having them. 

Then, L was asked by the officials at Dejima to look into talks of a rebellion group within the ranks. Apparently farmers on the mainland were beginning to protest unfair taxation in large groups, and the officials feared some of those stationed at Dejima were sympathetic to the farmer’s plight, and were giving insider information to the protestors. 

This time, L refused to take the case on. He feigned ignorance with Light, pretended not to notice his impassioned talks about the rights of the farmers, and hoped that his lack of involvement would save Light. 

Light, and several other guards, were executed at the end of his trip in Dejima. Apparently they hadn’t been able to narrow down the suspects as much as they’d like, so they decided to just execute all of them. 

Innocents were probably killed, because L had refused to step in. Because he didn’t want to be the one responsible for getting Light killed a third time. 

After that, L swore to never return to Japan. 

That didn’t happen though. 

Centuries went on. Every few decades, L and Wammy would take time to move around, and somehow L would always end up back in Japan. By the mid 1800s, Japan was forcibly opened up to the world thanks to the Americans, and L was no longer restricted to Dejima during his visits. It wasn’t like he chose to keep returning to Japan. Somehow, a ship always got stuck somewhere, and his only ship out was one that was headed for the small island country. Eventually, L stopped fighting it. 

And every time, without fail, he would find Light once more. Under a different name, always involved in some illegal prospect L would eventually be asked to investigate. Protests became more and more destructive. Then, a full on riot. 

Things took a darker turn. A conspiracy to assassinate the emperor was a big case for L. And although L had tried his best to stay away from Light, Light had found his way to L, and also to the center of the conspiracy. 

With each new iteration of Light, the lengths he was willing to go to got more and more extreme. His idea of justice grew twisted, began to intertwine with a need for violence. Yet… he was always the same Light. Same face, same laugh, same dreams. 

In the 1910s, Light was involved in a terrorism plot started by a group of students. It was once again in the name of justice and suffrage, but so many people would have been killed if L hadn’t discovered the conspiracy. 

Light didn’t let himself be arrested this time. He was already dead when the authorities arrived at his home. 

The times without Light became a blessing to L. Because he knew that as soon as Light showed up, it was going to end in L being responsible for his death yet again. 

The games between them though grew greater and greater. With each new twisted case Light was inevitably at the center of, Light’s own cunning grew. Despite the close relationship the two managed to develop every single iteration, the dynamic would shift into something darker, something more akin to a series of mind games than a friendship. 

It was a new millenia. L was the greatest detective in the world, and Wammy had stayed by his side for three centuries. L had thought that the two of them had encountered every kind of mystery the world could offer.

Then came the Kira case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok wanna settle some historical things here. I try to be as accurate as possible but I had to bend some things here and there for this chapter
> 
> 1) yes I know that taxation documents regarding the shop owners on Dejima doesn't make sense because Edo period Japan did not tax merchants due to the buying and selling of goods being against Confucian ideals however I did not want Light to jump to murder straight away so I decided hey messing with tax documents could work (but it's not like he'd be handling farmer tax documents while stationed on Dejima so yall see where I had to blur things a bit) 
> 
> 2) before you're like "whoa author why execution for forgery isn't that a little much" I actually found an account of a Chinese sailor being executed for forgery on Dejima. Now realistically Light being a Japanese citizen would probably get more leeway compared to a foreigner, but again I had to blur things a bit so yes he was executed for forgery
> 
> oh and not a history thing but Wammy still starts the orphanage at some point I just didn't mention it here. The kids are just told not to ask why him and L don't seem to age
> 
> another point I wanted to add, Light and L did not have a romantic relationship in _every_ iteration (just the majority of them), though in every one they did end up becoming friends at some point. also with the dreams Light has never realized they were memories from past lives, and has never learned of L's status as a vampire in any iteration either
> 
> anyway I hope you guys enjoyed! please let me know what you think down in the comments, they really make my day :)


	3. a new type of killer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L starts to work on the Kira case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys I'm back!! 
> 
> thank you all so much for all the love you gave the last chapter, it really boosted me to push this one out because I was definitely hitting a slog towards the middle. FINALLY we are getting close to the good stuff and I'm super excited
> 
> this chapter is primarily just kinda a run down of the first part of the show/manga. we're kind of just speedrunning things until we hit the point where I'm going to diverge more from canon which will be soon I promise. 
> 
> hope you guys enjoy this one!

It was the year 2003 when L first heard news about a mysterious series of heart attacks. 

There weren’t many so far. A few hundred heart attacks in total, and they seemed to occur in groups around similar times. Usually, something as common as a heart attack wouldn’t be picked up by authorities. But there was a specific group these heart attacks were affecting. 

Criminals. The list of the most wanted criminals in the world was getting shorter, with some being discovered dead in a cell, while others were being found on the side of freeways. World organizations were beginning to take notice, which meant Watari had taken notice as well. 

He brought the case files to L only a few days after the strange killings had begun. These days, L only took on cases that he was truly interested in. Several centuries of detective work and you encounter just about everything. It was difficult for L to find a worthy adversary. 

But a person who could kill others through heart attacks? Now that was something new. 

L looked over the list of criminals already killed. First and foremost, this was an international situation. This killer—who the internet was beginning to call ‘Kira’—did not have to be in a specific location near the victim to kill them, as evidenced by the fact that a vast majority of the victims were prisoners. This meant Kira could be anywhere in the world. 

The killings began in bulk a few days prior to L receiving the first case file. But no one just woke up with a power like this and immediately knew how to use it. More likely than not, Kira experimented. If he was experimenting, that would mean they’d want to do it in a way that could result in them knowing instantly if the killing succeeded or not, and likely as a way to test if there was a distance limit to his power. 

Something televised would make the most sense. And given Kira’s apparent morals regarding the killing of criminals, L would imagine it would be some kind of criminal situation being broadcast on live news. 

It didn’t take long for L to find a match. 

Kurou Otoaharada. A man who had been holding school children hostage, before dying mysteriously of a heart attack and allowing the children to go free. The incident was broadcast on live television… but only in Japan. 

As soon as L made the connection that Kira’s first killing likely occurred in Japan, his stomach dropped to his knees. It had been decades since he had last seen _him_. L knew that it was only a matter of time before they crossed paths once again. 

But this was a new level entirely. Kira had already killed more people in a few days than the world’s greatest serial killer. He wasn’t sure if his old friend was capable of something that intense. 

So L worked under the assumption that this _wasn’t_ who he thought it was, and tried to keep an impartial opinion as he began to try and compile suspect lists. 

A few days later, L spoke to the ICPO over a call to inform them that he had taken on the case. Then he announced his intent to work with the Japanese police force, and reported his findings about Kira’s location. 

Things progressed steadily. L tricked Kira on live television into revealing where he was, thanks to the help of Lind L. Tailor. L analyzed the times that criminals were dying, and realized that it followed a student’s schedule. Criminals were only dying outside standard school hours, meaning that it was likely Kira was a high school student. Thus, this narrowed the pool even more. 

Then, Kira began killing at all hours of the day. It was too sudden, like Kira was taunting L. _You thought I was a student? Well look, I can kill at any time._ The timing was much too suspicious. The only people L had told his theory regarding Kira being a student was the Japanese police force. The fact that Kira was able to obtain this information meant that he was somehow involved with the Japanese police force. 

As weeks passed, FBI agents were brought in to investigate the families of the Japanese police force. L waited, knowing that Kira was going to retaliate in some way or another if he was one of the people the FBI agents were shadowing. 

Sure enough, all the FBI agents ended up dead. 

L did something he rarely did anymore. 

He decided to meet the Task Force in person. 

At this point, L was well aware he couldn’t die. But he didn’t like to be seen by those he was working with unless it was deemed absolutely necessary. The fewer people that knew what L looked like, the lower the chance that someone would realize L doesn’t age. 

L the detective had practically become a separate persona from L Lawliet at this point. Anyone could technically act under the name L, although L hadn’t found anyone yet that he would trust to take up this role. 

Watari was trying to find a successor, in case L ever wanted to take a break. Two kids from Wammy’s House seemed promising, but with the Kira case having had his full attention, Nate and Mihael were the last two people on his mind. 

The Task Force in Japan no longer trusted him. He understood the hesitation, given how omniscient Kira’s power appeared to be. Almost the entirety of the force dedicated to catching Kira had left, leaving only a small group for L to work with. 

Despite the fact that L didn’t necessarily need the Japanese police to find Kira, it would certainly make things a lot easier, so he wanted to hold onto their trust as much as possible. 

Thus, meeting them in person. 

There were only six of them. Shuichi Aizawa, Kanzo Mogi, Touta Matsuda, Hideki Ide, Hirokazu Ukita, and the Chief of the NPA—Soichiro Yagami. They all decided to stay on the case because they wanted to do the right thing. 

L instructed the group to call him Ryuzaki. Of course they didn’t know the reason he chose the alias Ryuzaki. While it wasn’t necessarily because he wanted to honor Rue in any way (given that he was, you know, a serial killer), he just felt it was a fitting tribute to one of the weirdest cases he’d dealt with since becoming immortal (at least until now). 

Kira killed by heart attacks with some psychic ability. He needed a face and a name to do it. In his nearly four hundred years of life, L had never had to worry for his own safety during his investigations, because it was nearly impossible to kill him. 

But now the question hung in the air: could Kira’s abilities work on L? L was mostly certain he couldn’t suffer a heart attack, but he’d also been fairly certain people couldn’t cause others to have heart attacks using their minds but that had been proven wrong. So until further notice, he had to be extremely careful regarding who he gave his real name and face to. 

Once he had the task force working directly under him, he resumed his investigation where they left off. He looked into the FBI agents that had been deployed to Japan, and analyzed what he could from each of their deaths. When he managed to deduce the Raye Penbar had possibly seen Kira as he was dying, that was when L took a deeper look into everyone who Raye Penbar was investigating. 

He narrowed down the family lists, until there were only two families left. The Kitamura family—headed by the Deputy Director of the NPA—and the Yagami family—headed by Soichiro Yagami himself. When he announced his decision to put both families under surveillance, he hadn’t expected Chief Yagami to go along with things so willingly. But he was grateful for the cooperation all the same. 

The afternoon after they had gotten the cameras set up, L and Chief Yagami were settled in a private room, watching the staticy tv screens depicting Yagami’s empty house. L had promised Chief Yagami only the two of them would view the surveillance on his home for the sake of his family’s privacy. 

They hadn’t been watching the screens for long before the first family member walked in. 

The front door opened, and L watched as a head of shaggy brown hair came into view. 

“That’s your son, Light, correct?” L asked, unable to see the boy’s face from the camera angle. 

“Yes, he must have just gotten home from school,” Yagami explained. 

L watched as the boy took off his shoes, calling into the rest of the house to see if the others were home. There was something about his voice that was familiar to L, but he couldn’t place it exactly. 

The boy climbed up the stairs to his room, head still ducked down as he walked. There was a growing sense of dread curling in L’s chest. Even though Watari had reported nothing unusual inside of Light’s room when he had placed the cameras there earlier that day, anticipation was growing inside of him as he watched the teenager approach his door. 

He entered the room, throwing his book bag to the side. Light tossed his jacket away as well, before falling backwards onto his bed, facing directly up at one of the cameras. 

And just like that, all of the wind got knocked out of L’s chest. 

Because despite the grainy security footage, despite the far shot, despite all of these factors, L immediately knew who was looking up at him. It was him. The same face that had haunted L for centuries. All sharp angles and eyes so brown they were almost red. The face that always came back around to find L no matter how much time had passed. 

This time, his name was Light Yagami. 

And L knew that he had just found Kira. 

“Ryuzaki, are you alright?” 

Whipping his head towards Yagami, L realized he had jumped backwards on the couch when he’d seen Light’s face. His chest was rapidly rising and falling, and his heart was pounding in his ears. 

He looked back at the screen, staring at Light’s face. L watched as he got up from the bed, and made his way towards his desk, muttering something about studying. Distantly, L could hear Soichiro ask him something else, but L wasn’t listening. Not now. Not after finding him again. 

After a few more beats of silence, L forced himself to take a deep breath. He had to leave the room to collect himself, but he had to give the chief an explanation. 

“I apologize, Chief Yagami,” L said, clenching his teeth as he pushed himself off the couch. “Your son looks like someone I once knew, and it startled me. I hope you don’t mind watching the cameras for a moment though. I just realized I need to go check with Watari regarding something.” 

It was a half-assed explanation, and L could tell Yagami didn’t buy it by the frown he was wearing. But he nodded anyway, waving L out of the room. 

L eagerly rushed out of the room and into the adjoining room where Watari was stationed. Watari barely glanced up at L’s hurried entrance, typing on his computer as L moved past him and into the bathroom in the far corner. 

Once he had slammed the door shut behind him, L breathed a sigh of relief. He buried his face in his hands, leaning against the door and sliding to the floor. 

“This can’t be happening,” he muttered. 

L had known this could’ve been what was going on as soon as he realized Kira was in Japan. But he hadn’t wanted it to be true. _God_ , how he had wanted to be wrong so badly just this once. 

Even though he had a long way to go before he could prove that Light was Kira, he was already dreading the next life Light would live because he wasn’t sure how it could get much worse than this. 

Eventually, L left the bathroom and returned to the office with Chief Yagami. Watari did ask him if he was alright when he left the bathroom, but L reassured him it was nothing and settled himself in front of the tv’s without another freak out. 

As soon as Chief Yagami had left for the evening, L had taken his laptop and pulled up Light’s file. This time, he was 17 (just on the verge of turning 18), and was in his final year of high school. He was a top ranked student, with perfect exam scores and perfect grades. Along with this, he had also been a junior tennis champion. 

Perfection on paper. This was only going to make it more of a challenge to prove that he was Kira. 

The next few days only furthered this sentiment. L focused so intently on the surveillance of Light Yagami, watching his every move waiting for a single slipup. But in the back of his mind, he knew he wasn’t going to find one. Light had always been just as cunning and calculating as he was, and he wasn’t going to make a mistake that easily. 

He was too good at their game, and they hadn’t even been formally introduced this time around. Light had been born to play the role of innocent high school student, and when two low-level criminals were killed during a time when Light was simply eating chips and studying without the tv on, L knew it was Light’s way of gloating to L. Showing him that even with full-time surveillance, Kira could still find criminal’s names on the news and kill them without so much as blinking. 

The surveillance continued for a short while, before eventually L could no longer justify keeping cameras in the Yagami household. Neither of the families they had investigated showed any justifiable signs of suspicion. But L _knew_ that Light was Kira now, and he wasn’t going to drop it that easily. 

He came to the realization that he was going to have to make a drastic move. Something to throw Kira off his game. To let himself get close to Kira, so he could wait for a slipup to happen. No matter how intelligent Kira was, he was still only human. 

(L told himself over and over again this wasn’t because he wanted to be near Light again. It was because he was desperate for evidence against Kira. He had to put aside his personal feelings for the case. This was strictly professional.) 

Even after all these centuries, L still hadn’t told Wammy about his situation with Light. But he knew Wammy well enough to see that the man clearly recognized there was something wrong with L. He wasn’t willing to tell Wammy though. Light was his own personal demon. His ghost from the past that never stopped haunting him. The last thing he needed was Wammy’s involvement. 

On the day of the university entrance exam, L found himself sitting in a large auditorium with dozens upon dozens of high school students. Even though L himself had never been to university (or even high school for that matter), he had no worries about passing this exam, considering he had 400 years of education behind him. 

In fact, L wasn’t even paying attention as the last of the students filed in. The others around him shifted nervously in their seats, reviewing last minute flashcards under their desks or muttering equations under their breath. L meanwhile stared at the doors to the auditorium, waiting for one specific person to walk in. 

Light arrived exactly five minutes before the exam was set to start. He walked in with an air of confidence no one else in the room had. His head was held high and there was a self-satisfied smirk on his face, as if he’d already aced the exam. 

But L really wasn’t paying attention to that. His heart had leapt into his throat the moment he’d seen Light, because he really was here again. Not just a blurry face on a surveillance camera or a low res student ID picture on a computer screen. It was really his Light. 

He ended up sitting a few rows in front of L. He didn’t take any notice of L, tapping his fingers on his desk and relaxing against his seat. Meanwhile, L watched him, looking for any signs of… suspicion? Any odd behavior that could tip him off to being Kira? 

Or maybe he was just watching Light for the sake of watching. The last time he’d seen Light it’d been the early 1960s, and the two had spent most of their time together in secret. At least until Light had been killed in a police shootout. 

L remembered what it looked like. His body, broken and bleeding on the pavement, a peaceful smile on his face despite the pain he must’ve endured, while L was weighed down with the knowledge that he had been the one to give the order to fire. 

Suddenly, a voice broke him out of his reverie. 

“You there! Student number 162, sit properly in your chair!” 

Blinking, L looked around and realized the exam had begun. An exam proctor was glaring at him, staring pointedly at his bare feet as he squatted on his seat. Biting down the argument he knew wouldn’t get him anywhere, L nodded and returned to a normal sitting position, waiting for the proctor to leave so he could go back to sitting how he wanted. 

When L glanced forward again, his breath caught in his throat as he locked eyes with Light. Light was staring at him curiously, and L wondered if it was out of disgust for his feet on the desk, or some sort of faint recognition. Possibly both. 

The two stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, but was actually only a few seconds. When Light finally turned back to his own test, a weight lifted off L’s shoulders, and decided to get this exam over with. 

Even if he didn’t talk to Light yet, he was just setting the stage for their first encounter. He knew how to be patient. That was one of the many things you learned with 400 years of life under your belt. 

The exam was a breeze. He hurried out before anyone else finished, and Watari’s car drove off right as Light was stepping outside the building. 

The next few months were relatively quiet. The task force continued their investigation with few leads. L entertained some offhanded ideas the others had, even though he knew they would lead to nowhere. It didn’t matter. He was just biding his time until the semester at To-Oh officially began. 

Watari didn’t push L to keep investigating during this time. He knew that L had a reason for fixating on Light, and Watari trusted L’s instincts more than his own. He helped make it seem like L was fixated on the case just as much as the others, even though L wasn’t really bothering to look into any other leads. 

Finally though, the month of April was upon them. There was an entrance ceremony for To-Oh students, and the student with the highest score was supposed to give a welcoming speech. L had been informed that he and one other student had both received perfect scores, so they would both be giving the welcoming speech. L could only assume Light was the other student. 

With his alias set up, L arrived at To-Oh knowing exactly what he was going to do. It was a bold move. A very bold move. But he knew Light’s games so well at this point, L already could guess that Kira would not see a step like this coming. It would take him off his guard, and that’s exactly what L was hoping for. 

The auditorium was crammed with sharply-dressed students, all brimming with excitement about the next phase of their lives that was ahead of them. L tapped his fingers against his seat, his speech crumpled up in his pocket as he searched the crowd, looking for Light. 

“Now for the freshman address, freshman representative, Light Yagami.” 

“Yes.” 

L looked to the front, where he heard Light announce his presence as he got to his feet and began to make his way to the stage. 

“And freshman representative, Hideki Ryuga.” 

The crowd burst into confused whispers, and L smirked to himself. Of course it was a ridiculous alias to use, the actor becoming well-known even by international standards, but it wasn’t like he was going to pretend to be a normal college student to Light. Besides, if Kira were to ever get the means to kill him, he could only imagine it’d be a bit more difficult to see his face when Kira was writing the name ‘Hideki Ryuga’. 

“Uh, right, I’m here,” L said, pushing himself to his feet as he also made his way to the stage. Watari had insisted he wear shoes this time, despite how much L didn’t want to. The sneakers were tight against his feet as he caught up to Light, watching his shaggy brown hair bob with each step up the stairs. 

The crowd was still murmuring as Light took his place behind the mic, with L standing hunched over beside him. He waited as Light began his speech, a classic statement about embarking on a new chapter and how honored he was to be the freshman representative. L could see the eyes from the crowd flashing between him and Light, taking in the obvious differences between them. There had been a time where L had looked and dressed a bit more normal for the standards of society, but he had eventually reached a point where he stopped caring. 

(Although of course Watari did hark on him for his posture. It’s not like he could damage his back though because of his slouching, so he didn’t see what the big deal was.) 

Then, Light stopped talking, and it was L’s turn to read out his speech. 

He took out the crumpled piece of paper and read it as quickly as he could, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. He could feel Light’s eyes on him as he spoke, seeming both confused but also interested in him. 

Finally, he reached the last line of his speech and crumpled the paper back into his pocket. The crowd applauded them both, and they waited a few moments before Light made his way off the stage, and L followed behind. 

Now was the time. 

“Light?” L asked in a low voice as they watched. “Light Yagami?” 

L thought back to how many times they’d done this before. How many times L had said whatever his name was, pretending as if it was the first time they’d met. 

Light didn’t react, but he could see Light staring at him from the corner of his eye. 

“Your father is Chief Soichiro Yagami of the NPA. Your respect for your father is matched only by your strong sense of justice.” 

L noticed how Light pursed his lips, a slight frown creasing his brows, but he still didn’t say anything. The two made it to their seats, and L settled down beside Light, resuming his comfortable squat. 

“You’re planning to join the police agency when you graduate. And you’ve already got experience, seeing as you’ve already helped the police solve a number of cases in the past. Now you’re showing an interest in the Kira case.” 

Light’s expression remained impassive, a neutral mask perfectly concealing whatever thoughts were going on in his mind. But L could practically feel the confusion radiating off of him in waves. He wanted to know what the hell L’s deal was. 

“I’m impressed by your abilities and your sense of justice. If you promise not to tell anyone about this, I have important information concerning the Kira investigation that I’d like to share with you.” 

There it was. The hook. Even if he seemed like some crazy rando who had been stalking Light, Kira would want to know any possible ‘important information’ he might have, just to make sure it couldn’t come back to bite him. 

There was another beat of silence. Light was considering. 

“I won’t tell anyone. What is it?” Light finally asked in a hushed voice. 

Here it was. The time to take a risk. 

“I want to tell you I’m L.” 

L watched for any signs of fear or surprise from Light. His face remained neutral, his breathing steady. But L noticed the slightest bouncing of his right foot, before he closed his eyes for a brief second. Only a bit longer than a normal blink, but L knew he was collecting himself. 

“If you are who you say you are, then you have nothing but my respect and admiration,” Light told him. 

L had to hand it to him. He was a good actor. 

“Thank you,” L replied. “The reason I chose to reveal my identity to you is because I think you could be of some help to us on the Kira investigation.” 

Light didn’t reply this time. He stared straight ahead as the last speech was given, while L did the same. He noticed Light closing his eyes once more after a few seconds, a faint smile quirking the corners of his lips. 

The speech ended, and the students all got to their feet to leave the auditorium. Light quickly disappeared into the crowd, and L made his way out alone. No matter how many times it happened, the first meeting was always the worst. It was a reminder of what he could never have, and that things were only going to end badly once more. 

He headed towards Watari’s waiting car, when he spotted a familiar head of brown hair standing out above the crowd. Before he could stop himself, L approached.

“Hey Light?” He said, unsure of why he felt the need to add more even though their conversation had ended. Light paused his walking, and looked at L from the corner of his eye. “Uh… nice meeting you.” He continued, not having known where he was going with that. 

“No, the pleasure was mine,” Light said, as formal and charming as ever. 

Watari’s car had already pulled up in front of them, so L nodded as he moved towards the door Watari had opened for him. A few students were murmuring about the expensive vehicle, but L paused to glance back to Light. 

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you on campus,” L said. 

“Yeah, take care,” Light replied. 

With one last nod, L got in the car and Watari closed the door behind him. Now invisible to Light’s gaze, L sunk down in his seat, letting out a breath as Watari moved to the front. The car engine rumbled as it started up, and L met Light’s eyes through the tinted glass as they pulled away. 

Once the school had disappeared behind them, L tore his gaze away from the outside, and brought his thumb up to his lip as he thought over what had occurred. Light was too innocent, that much was obvious. Even if L didn’t have his history with Light, he was sure he’d still be suspicious of Light in this case. There was absolutely nothing to suggest he could be Kira, outside of his intelligence, and that’s exactly why he was so suspicious. 

Another investigation that was bound to end with a funeral. L was so tired of it. 

“Is university life all it’s chalked up to be, Ryuzaki?” Watari asked as he pulled onto the main road. 

“I guess you could say that,” L muttered. 

If L was quieter than usual on the ride back to his hotel room, Watari didn’t comment, and for that he was grateful.

♰⁜♰

A few days later, L asked Light to play a game of tennis. 

University classes had just kicked off, and L was already bored. He had joined this university to get to Kira and nothing else, so he didn’t want to waste any time. Besides, when he had read that Light had been a junior tennis champion, he’d almost laughed. L had been playing tennis for a hundred years now. A friendly game was the perfect way to get to understand Light’s mind. 

Of course Light knew the score just as well as L did. They were investigating each other. L versus Kira. Light wanted to get to know L just as much as L wanted to know him. There was no chance he would decline. 

“You know, Ryuga, when you first asked me to play tennis as a way to get to know each other, I had to admit I was surprised,” Light was saying as they stood at the edge of the courts, Light reaching into his duffle bag to grab a tennis racket. 

“Is that a problem for you?” L asked, already knowing what the answer would be. 

“Not at all. But when you first invited me to play, did you know how good I was?” Light asked, smirking a bit. 

“Yes, I’ll be fine though. It’s been a while but at one time I was actually British Junior Champion,” L explained. That wasn’t technically a lie, save for the junior part. He had been British Champion at one point. L just hadn’t mentioned that it was in the year 1905. 

“Ryuga, were you raised in the UK?” Light asked after a moment. 

“Yes, I was. But I moved around quite a bit as I got older,” L said. “But save your breath. Nothing in that story would reveal L’s true identity, I promise you.” He couldn’t help but throw that last jab in. While he would like to believe Light truly was curious about his life, he knew Kira was just trying to get information out of him. 

They made their way to an empty court, with L making the decision to serve first. 

“Since this is our first match, how about we just play a single set?” He asked. 

“Sounds good to me,” Light replied. 

L bounced the ball up and down on the court. A hard court. The most stable for speed and bounce, but hardest on the joints. Grass was more adept for fast hits, which was what L was most familiar with playing on. Clay courts were a bit more difficult, considering how soft the surface was and how drastically it slowed the ball. 

But hard courts were easy to figure out. They were the most basic. It put them at equal levels. While a player might excel on a clay court and fail on a grass court or vice versa, no player truly excelled (or failed) on hard courts. 

This game wasn’t a test to find out if Light was Kira. That couldn’t be determined with a single tennis match. But it would be an interesting analysis of Light’s psyche right now. See how much he hated to lose, and how far his god complex had gone so far. 

Lifting up his hand, L tossed the ball in the air, grunting as he slammed the racket against it. The ball went flying over the net, bouncing past Light and into the chain link fence. 

“Fifteen, love,” he called out. 

“Wow, Ryuga, you sure don’t mess around,” Light commented with a small laugh. 

“He who strikes first, wins,” L shrugged, knowing just how much weight that sentence held. 

The game quickly went from friendly, to intense. L wasn’t holding his hits, and neither was Light. Light was much stronger than he appeared, and even though L had the benefits of his condition, it was still a struggle to stay above Light. 

L wondered if Light was going to try to win. He could practically hear Light’s thought process right now. He was probably wondering if L was trying to profile based on this match, and if he should throw the match to avoid suspicion of being Kira. However, he also knew that L knew most people would rather win than lose, therefore Light trying to win would not be a smoking gun saying that he’s Kira even though they both knew Kira hated to lose. 

Leaping forward, Light slammed his racket against L’s return, and the ball whizzed past L’s head and into the chain link fence. 

So he was going for the win. 

“4 games all! Yagami to serve!” The umpire called out. 

The game went on. L could tell he was getting into Light’s head, and he knew Light’s thought process was the same as his own. Light was assuming that L was trying to get to know him better, and therefore was preparing to take a step closer. They both knew L was just biding his time, trying to get Light to slip up and say something to reveal he’s Kira. 

But that would require Light trusting L first. Obviously the only way Light could do that would be for L to reveal what he already knew about Kira. Along with that, L would have to prove to Light that he is in fact the real L. At this point in time, he could just be a weird college student playing running gag on Light for no reason other than his own entertainment. Light would need definitive evidence that he was who he claimed to be. The best kind of evidence would be confirmation from a third party that he was indeed L. The only other people who knew that he was L was the task force, which meant their only option was to go to Task Force Headquarters. 

Suddenly, Light surged forward towards the ball with a ferocity L hadn’t yet seen in the match. L leapt to the side to try and meet the ball with his racket, but the hit was too fast, and before L knew it, he could hear the tennis ball slamming against the chain link fence as the umpire called Light’s victory. 

Damn. Not playing for a hundred years really makes a person rusty. 

After their tennis gear had been put away and they had left the courts (apparently they’d garnered quite a crowd during their game), L and Light were walking under the cherry blossom trees, both still sweaty from their intense match. 

“I had a feeling you’d beat me,” L commented. 

“I might’ve won, but it’s been a while since I had to play that hard,” Light replied, laughing a bit. “Anyway, I’m feeling thirsty. Plus, there’s something I wanna ask you about. Do you wanna go get a drink?” 

“You humored me with a tennis match, so the least I can do is answer some of your questions,” L answered. So far, things had been going well with his plan. But there was still one thing he hadn’t yet mentioned to Light. “However, there is one thing I haven’t told you yet. If you still want to ask me questions after I explain this to you, go ahead.” 

Light’s eyes widened. “What is that?” 

“It’s that I suspect that you, Light Yagami, are in fact, Kira,” L explained. 

Now, most detectives wouldn’t usually tell their suspects that they are, in fact, suspects if they’re trying to gain their trust to get them to slip up. But L knew Light was smarter than that. They both had the same sense of logic. Even if there was some minute chance Light wasn’t Kira, he’d still know that the only reason L would reveal himself to Light would be if Light himself was a suspect. 

At this, Light stopped walking, and L glanced back at him curiously. 

Light was giving him a wide-eyed stare. “You think _I’m_ Kira?” 

“I mean, when I say you’re a suspect, I have to admit there is only a 1% possibility,” L said, picking a random percentage off the top of his head and going with it. In all actuality, he was 99% certain that Light was Kira, but he had no solid proof of this claim. So when looking strictly by evidence, it would likely only be around a 1% chance. 

“However, I can tell you that once I’m sure you aren’t Kira, and I can verify that your deductive skills are as strong as I think they are, I’d like nothing more than to have you work with me on this investigation.” 

Of course L knew that Light’s deductive skills were as strong as his own, but the L he was right now, who was legally 24 years old and had never met Light Yagami until a few days ago, didn’t know that. 

Along with that, he had said there was only a 1% possibility when it came to Light being Kira. But L knew that in actuality, there was only a 1% possibility he _wasn’t_ Kira. 

He was playing Light at his own game. Light needed to know he was onto him, but in a way that he could believe. 

The rest of the day was surprisingly hectic. After submitting Light to some deductive tests with notes Kira had made victims write for L, they had both received calls about Soichiro Yagami having a heart attack. They ended up going to the hospital together, where Light gave an impassioned speech about catching Kira that almost made L question his certainty. Then, Soichiro confirmed to Light that L was who he claimed to be, and L knew the real games between them were going to begin. 

By the time L had pulled away from the hospital, leaving Light standing on the curb, he felt more exhausted than he had in possibly decades. Gone were the days of L finding a friend in Light. This was a new kind of Light. One that took the mind games they had always played to a new level entirely. 

Kira wasn’t a foe to mess around with. L could no longer take the risks he once did, because he truly didn’t know what Kira—what _Light_ —was capable of. 

At the very least, L was prepared nearly four centuries over for this.

♰⁜♰

The night after his tennis match with Ryuzaki, Light had his first nightmare in years. 

Bits and pieces flashed behind his eyes as he slept. Living on the coast, in a part of Japan with buildings older than Light had ever seen before. Sitting by a roaring fire, sharing a cup of sake with L and laughing as they joked around. L looking different than how Light knew him, different in a way that couldn’t be explained, but almost as if he was… younger. Not physically. But mentally. 

Then, things were different. L looked more tired, and the island they were on would change. It became more modern, the buildings being repaired over and over until they began to vaguely resemble what Light knew Japan to look like. 

The world would shift around them, every time he saw L in this dream. And every time, L would look exactly the same, but his eyes would be different. There was something deeper there. A new sense of pain, every time he looked at Light. 

Then, Light felt something sharp digging into his throat. A noose being tied around his neck. A katana impaling him through the stomach. A gun pointing in between his eyes. A knife held by his own hand, pressed against his throat. 

Finally, Light woke gasping for breath. He bolted upright in his bed, clutching at his throat, at his stomach, at his head—he could feel the echoes of death all around him. And all the while, L’s eyes haunted his thoughts. Those dark, soulless eyes, looking more and more pained every time Light saw them. 

His heart was racing, and he struggled to get his breathing under control. Eventually, Light stumbled to his feet and rushed to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, not even noticing the curious look Ryuk was giving him from the corner of the room. 

By the time he made his way back to his bed, Light was feeling much calmer. It had just been a weird dream. The stress from having Ryuga’s identity as L be confirmed was just getting to him, along with his father’s heart attack. That’s all it was, he was sure. 

Light sat back down on the edge of his bed, and reached for the sleeping pills he kept in his nightstand, when Ryuk’s voice made him jump. 

“Having nightmares are we?” Ryuk teased. 

Light glared at the shinigami. “Nightmares are a natural result of being stressed. Considering I’m trying to create a new world, I’d say that gives me plenty to be stressed about.” He poured two pills into his hand, and popped them in his mouth. 

“Oh yes, I’m sure it’s just that and has nothing to do with your little tennis match today,” Ryuk continued. 

Swallowing the pills, Light scoffed. “Ryuzaki doesn’t scare me. Yes, he’s a threat, and he stresses me out because I have to constantly be on guard around him, but I’m not afraid of him.” 

“I wasn’t saying you were afraid of him,” Ryuk laughed, “but alright, I believe you.” 

Light narrowed his eyes at Ryuk, wanting to ask him what he meant but also knowing he was just going to keep himself up if he did that. Ryuk likely wouldn’t explain things to him anyway, because he was adamant about making sure Light knew he wasn’t here to help him. 

So Light ignored the comment, and laid back down in his bed. 

“Goodnight, Ryuk,” he said, because the shinigami got cranky when he wasn’t acknowledged. 

“Night night, don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Ryuk crooned. 

“Fuck off,” Light muttered as he rolled over, his body becoming heavy as the sleeping pills kicked in. 

Ryuk watched as Light’s breathing steadied, his shoulders slumping as he was dragged into sleep. Once his breathing was steady, Ryuk laughed quietly. 

There were many things about Light that were interesting to Ryuk. One was certainly his intelligence, and another was the god complex that led to him using the Death Note more than any human before him ever had. 

But there was one more thing about Light that was interesting to Ryuk though. Sometimes, Ryuk would meet a human and get a strange sense about them when looking at their remaining lifespan. Something that told him they had more than just a single lifespan going for them. 

Almost all human souls went to an afterlife when they died. But there were certain souls that stuck around, for reasons that the shinigami weren’t told. When a shinigami killed a human with this kind of soul, they still got their remaining lifespan, but the soul itself wouldn’t go to the afterlife. Instead, it would stay on Earth, finding life a second time. 

Only the Shinigami King could know how many times a human soul had reincarnated, and how many more times it would continue to reincarnate for before it finally moved on. But sometimes, a shinigami could just tell when it wasn’t a human’s first time around. And Ryuk had gotten that feeling from Light the second he picked up the Death Note. 

So, if Ryuk had taken an afternoon while Light was in school to quickly hop on over to the Shinigami realm and bribe Armonia Justin with a human apple to ask the King how many lives Light Yagami had lived, and how many more he had going for him, that wasn’t any of Light’s business now was it? Ryuk was just doing it for his own curiosity after all. 

In total, this was Light’s eighth time on the ol’ train of life. That had been surprising to Ryuk, because it was rare to find a human who had reincarnated more than three times. 

What was even more surprising to Ryuk though was when Armonia Justin had told him how many reincarnations Light had left. 

Or rather, Armonia Justin didn’t tell him that, because Justin didn’t know. When Ryuk asked Justin why he didn’t know, he said it was because not even the Shinigami King knew the answer to that. It seemed like Light’s reincarnation was tied to some outside force unrelated to the traditional rules of life and death. Up until now, Ryuk had been struggling to figure out what that outside force could be. 

Then, he watched the tennis game with L Lawliet, the man who had a clock ticking up instead of a clock ticking down. 

And just like that, all the puzzle pieces had fallen into place. 

Humans were interesting. But Light was by far the most interesting human Ryuk knew he was _ever_ going to meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here we start coming in with a bit of the custom lore I'm adding regarding shinigami and reincarnation. if it wasn't clear, the Shinigami King does not really control who gets reincarnated or when, it's just kind of a thing the universe does of its own accord, but most of the time the Shinigami King is aware of how many reincarnations someone has already had, and how many more they got going for them before their soul will finally move on
> 
> however, Light's situation is different than most, considering his reincarnations are tied to the lifespan of L, who is immortal. so Light's not going to run out of reincarnations for as long as L is alive. Naturally, this is like if Ryuk's favorite tv show just added a major twist that made the stakes even more dramatic so he's living for this
> 
> we'll get more into shinigami and what they know about vampires later, I promise. I have a whole lore thing tying the two together. Right now all yall need to know is that Ryuk does know what a vampire is, and he knows that L is one. Naturally he's not going to say a word of this to Light
> 
> Also shoutout to @Hippopi from the comments for bringing up the idea that vampires could have a clock that ticks up rather than down! Originally I was just going to give vampires a frozen clock or no lifespan at all, but I really liked the ticking up idea more so thank you so much for that!
> 
> also shoutout to this being the first chapter of this fic that I didn't have to have 5 wikipedia tabs open for to make sure I was being as historically accurate as possible 
> 
> anyway thank you all so much for reading, please leave a comment if you enjoyed, it gives me more motivation to pump the next chapter out faster! <3


	4. it didn't make sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this case isn't like the others

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys i'm back! sorry for how late this update is, I had uni finals so I was pretty busy for the past month but I finally got around to finishing this! and now I'm finally out for winter break thank god
> 
> thank you all so much for the love you've given this so far! this fic is entirely self indulgent and I know it's always a risk reading a fic from an author on anon, so i appreciate all of you guys that are sticking around to check this out
> 
> hope you enjoy this chapter! it's kind of the last summary we have to get up to the point I want actual plot to start at

Up until now, L had felt fairly confident in how the investigation was proceeding. He had a clear idea of who his main suspect was, knew exactly how his mind operated, and simply had to work on hanging around him enough until he got evidence of his identity. 

That was until the Second Kira showed up. 

At first, L believed the tapes sent to Sakura TV to be the work of Light, but it didn’t _feel_ like something he’d do. L knew how Light worked, better than anyone else in the world. It made sense logically. Encourage cooperation between the police force and Kira in a way that brings in the pressures of public opinion—which had been steadily rising over the past few months. 

But there was something about it that was off. Light wasn’t one to make such public moves. He preferred to play the game in a more subtle way. Through sleight of hand and disarming smiles. Focusing on himself first and foremost, then worrying about how to attain his goal. 

Then, L realized the obvious truth. 

There was a Second Kira. 

This news was troubling to him for several reasons. Obviously it concerned him because there was someone else out there with the power to kill people through means of heart attacks. Along with that, this Kira only needed a face to kill someone—not their name. 

But what troubled him even more was the fact that up until now, he’d been so certain that Kira was Light, because who else could it be? Every half century when he and Light found one another again, Light was always the center of his investigation, the mastermind behind the plot. 

But now there’s two people pulling the strings. Did Light have an accomplice this time?

No, Light might have had people involved in his plots that he gave orders to, but he never had a co-conspirator. That again directly conflicts with the way Light’s mind works. He had always known just how smart he was, in every lifetime. His genius was on equal footing with L’s, and both of them preferred to work alone because they knew there was no one else who could keep up with them. Having a co-conspirator would just drive Light crazy. 

So the Second Kira had to be working alone. It soon became even more apparent to L that this new Kira wasn’t working with Light because they didn’t follow the same set of rules Light did. They killed lesser criminals, or criminals who had already served their time and had sincerely regretted what they’d done. Along with that, they killed innocents as well. Much more freely than the original Kira ever would. This new Kira was much more volatile, more powerful, and extremely dangerous. 

It was at this point that L realized he had an opportunity here. He knew the Second Kira wasn’t Light, but he needed to find out who they were even more than he needed to find the original Kira. If anyone was going to want to find the Second Kira to stop them from ruining his message, it would be the first Kira. 

He invited Light to join the Task Force. 

As suspected, Light immediately deduced that this was not the original Kira, and L agreed to let him in. Then, in a bit of dramatic irony, he made Light script a ‘fake’ message from Kira to the Second Kira, to get them to stop the killings. 

It almost made him laugh to watch Light’s eyes bulge out at his request. It was a tongue-in-cheek move for sure, but he needed someone to script it, and who better to make the Second Kira believe the message than to have the first Kira write it himself? 

He was sure that boiled Light’s blood a bit. But he had been bored since the 60’s, and even if this new case was the most disturbing act of Light’s fight for justice yet, getting under his old friend’s skin still provided some sort of entertainment. 

When a reply to their tape was received, something unexpected happened. For one, the Second Kira blatantly stated that they wanted to meet the First Kira. But even more shocking, they mentioned that they could show their ‘Shinigami’ together. 

L knew what shinigami were. The Japanese term for Gods of Death. Essentially, one cultural iteration of what was known in the West as a Grim Reaper. He had heard them described as monsters, spirits, or helpers. But L had never considered any spirit like that to actually exist. Despite the fact that he himself was an immortal being, L didn’t lend much credit to any other kind of mythological creature. From a logical standpoint, it just wasn’t possible. 

But it also wasn’t logical to be able to murder someone with a heart attack with only their name and face at your disposal. So while usually L would just assume that the ‘shinigami’ the Second Kira referred to was some kind of code, a part of him couldn’t let go of the fact that it could be meant in a more literal sense, and that they were dealing with things way outside the realm of human expertise. If that was the case, well… L would have to come up with a new plan. 

The news that shinigami could possibly be involved was alarming to say the least. But L didn’t have any evidence that the Second Kira had meant literal shinigami, so he had to work under the assumption that it was a code for something. 

Then, they got a confirmation. 

A new tape, sent just the day after Matsuda and Light had gone to Aoyama. It was the Second Kira announcing they were going to quit searching for Kira, and thanked the police for the advice they gave. Along with that, they said some other things regarding continuing Kira’s work and sharing their power blah blah blah. But L didn’t really listen to the rest of it. Instead, he latched onto the first part as his theory fell into place. 

The recording ended, and L paused the TV. 

“After watching this, I can only think that Kira and the Second Kira have managed to make contact,” he told the room. 

“What makes you say that?” Light immediately questioned. 

L almost laughed. “Oh, come on, didn’t you sense it?” He asked, looking over his shoulder to meet Light’s gaze. “I was sure you’d come to the same conclusion I did after watching this once through.” Or he would’ve, unless he wanted to make sure the rest of the Task Force believed the two didn’t make contact. 

L took a bite of his donut, sighing at the faint taste of the sugar on his tongue. 

“First, consider how determined he was to meet Kira,” L began chewing on his donut, “so why the sudden change of heart? And now he wants to punish criminals that Kira hasn’t? And all he wants out of it is for Kira to see him as an ally?” He swallowed the food. “It begs the question of why he didn’t just do this to begin with? My guess is that he never thought that far ahead. He probably met Kira and was told which criminals he’d be allowed to judge.” If L eyed Light a little too much at this point, no one commented on it. “I suspect the purpose of this message is to hide the fact that they met.” 

“Oh, I see,” Light said, dipping his head in (fake) understanding. “What I find really strange is that it’s unlike Kira to be so careless.” 

Hm. Was he calling himself out on that one? Or was there more to it?

“That’s true,” L murmured. “But are we to believe that Kira made a mistake this time? Or is this his way of letting us know they’ve made contact? It would be an effective means of provoking us for sure. The idea of their union is very threatening.” 

L paused as another realization hit him. 

This wasn’t something Light was likely to do. It didn't make sense. 

“However… this is one less reason to suspect that Light is Kira.” 

Behind him, Soichiro gasped. 

“Ryuzaki, what do you mean by that?!” He demanded. 

“Well, if Light is Kira, I don’t think this is the message he would’ve had the Second Kira send to us. It just doesn’t fit. He would’ve made the Second Kira go through with his plan to have me appear on TV. Then, he would deny they ever made contact, letting the Second Kira shoulder the blame for my death.” 

Was this really all part of Light’s plan? To purposefully have the Second Kira send a message to stop L from appearing on TV in order to make himself look less suspicious? That was extremely convoluted, and L knew that right now Light wanted him dead more than anything else. It just didn’t make sense. 

Maybe… there was more at play here. Light being Kira was the only thing that made sense, but in all their years together a second conspirator had never gotten on Light’s level like this. He liked to work alone. 

Things were so different this time around.

“I think Light would make the Second Kira something like, ‘although I agreed not to go through with this, I have come to realize that it was not Kira’s true intention that I stop. I’m positive that the real Kira would want L to die. There’s no way he’d make me stop.’” Picking up another donut, L pointedly kept his gaze off of Light as he began to lick the frosting off the top. 

“Ryuzaki?” Light asked behind him. 

“Yes, Light?” 

“I think you’re mistaken. I would never do that if I were Kira.” 

Now _this_ was interesting. 

“Why not?” L asked. 

“Well, if you’re L and I’m Kira, then I’d already know your personality pretty well. L would never agree to appear on TV, no matter what threat he was facing. And he wouldn’t allow someone else to die in his place. The L I know would find some way to escape the situation.” 

_Ah._

Even after all these years, even without his memories, Light still knew him better than anyone else. He could see right though L. 

“So you’ve figured me out,” L muttered, locking eyes with Light. Light held his gaze, and L felt as if he were as transparent as a piece of cellophane. 

“Look, Light, you’ve got to stop that,” Soichiro’s rough voice suddenly broke in. “I don’t like hearing you say, ‘if I were Kira’. Even hypothetically.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dad,” Light replied. “I just wanted to let Ryuzaki know exactly what I thought of his plan. I posed that scenario because I want to help solve this case. It’s the only chance I have to clear my name. Besides, the only reason I feel comfortable saying things like that is because I’m not really Kira.” 

_I’m not really Kira._ L had heard that one before. But still, he could feel his certainty beginning to waver. 

“That’s a good point,” L said quietly, picking up his tea cup. “You’re not Kira. Or rather, it would be a problem if you were Kira.” 

“But… why?” Light asked. 

L sighed. “Because… you’re the first friend I’ve ever had.” 

He knew how Light would perceive this. This would be some tactic. Some strategy to get under Kira’s skin and make him feel sympathy towards L. Or possibly to lull Light into the sense that he trusted him. 

But in reality, that wasn’t why L had said that. He simply said it because it was the truth. 

Light had been his first friend, back in the year 1655. And here they still were. Despite the death and the constant threat and the constant game of wits… L missed his friend. 

More than anything, he was just tired. 

Behind him, Light gasped. 

“Uh, yeah, I know what you mean,” he said softly, clearly unsure of how to respond. “We have a lot in common.” 

And because L knew Light just as well as Light knew him, he also heard the unspoken part of Light’s sentence. 

_And I feel drawn to you, for reasons I can’t explain._

The forces at hand would always pull Light towards L. No matter how bitter their rivalry was, they were drawn to each other, over and over and over again. Almost like two magnets that had found their opposites, being dragged towards each other despite any resistance either one of them put up. 

“Thank you,” L whispered in response, before turning to glance at Light again. 

Light was grinning at him, and it was almost blinding. 

“And I have missed having you around at school,” Light added. “We should play tennis again soon.” 

L nodded, wondering if that would ever actually happen. 

“Yes, we should.” 

The Task Force didn’t stick around for too long after that. They all filed out of the room, leaving Watari and L alone in their hotel room once more. 

A few hours later, when L was still wide awake and scrolling through more files on his computer, he got a text from Mogi. He had followed Light home, as L had recently asked Mogi to keep an eye on him. And to Mogi’s surprise, it seemed as though Light had a new girlfriend. 

There was a blurry picture attached, and although L couldn’t see Light’s face very well, he could clearly make out the attractive girl practically squeezing the life out of him. 

Not necessarily groundbreaking, but interesting nonetheless. L saved the photo and thanked Mogi for the information, and didn’t think of it until the next morning. 

With L’s breakfast of sugared strawberries and sponge cake, also came news of a breakthrough. 

Hair samples came back from the forensics lab, identifying the Second Kira. 

Misa Amane. An up and coming model, she had a round face, blonde hair that always seemed to be kept in pigtails, and an infectious smile. On the surface, she was the last person someone would expect to be the Second Kira. But when L looked into her background, all the pieces fell into place. 

Her parents had been killed in a robbery the year before, and the robber had gotten off thanks to a mistrial. Justice wasn’t dealt to him until Kira killed him, and that turned Amane into a Kira worshipper. 

Not to mention, L immediately recognized her as the girl Mogi had seen Light with the night before. 

Somehow, she had managed to get Kira’s killing power, and agreed with Kira’s philosophy. Although she wasn’t as smart as Light, L had to give her credit. When he looked through security footage at Aoyama from the 22nd, he didn’t see her at all. That meant she had either made contact with him in another way, or she had been smart enough to disguise herself. Along with that, the fingerprints on the tapes weren’t hers, meaning she had gotten someone else to put them together for her. Her only slipup in this entire thing had been the pieces of hair that had gotten stuck in the tapes. 

This was Light’s new girlfriend, and she was most likely the Second Kira. This meant that it was time for L to pay Light another visit at the university.

♰⁜♰

Things at the university went so well, L was almost shocked half of it was coincidental. Yes, L had planned on having Misa arrested that day while he was talking to Light, but he hadn’t expected Misa to actually show up and say hi to Light. Once again, this only further confirmed his theory that she was the Second Kira, making Light the first Kira. 

Thanks to the research he’d done on her the night before, L had been able to play off his grin by acting like a super fan of hers. She took the compliments in stride, and as a crowd gathered to pay attention to the celebrity, it was all too easy for L to swipe both her phones out of her back pockets. 

As soon as Misa Amane had been dragged away by her manager, Light excused himself to go do something before meeting L for food. L had a feeling he knew what Light was going to do, and it was hard to maintain his composure when Light fell right into his trap and called the phone that was now in L’s back pocket. 

The look of shock and frustration on Light’s face was something L would remember for a long time. If L had to guess, he’d say Light most likely wanted to punch him right then and there. 

But of course, Light didn’t get the chance. L got the call that Misa had been arrested and was being put into custody, and Light was faced with the news that L knew that Misa was the Second Kira. 

From there, it was a whirlwind. Misa was put into custody following the safety precautions both Watari and L himself had devised, which horrified the Task Force. But it wasn’t as if L wanted to put Misa through something like that. Even though she was almost definitely a cold-hearted serial killer, she was also just a 19 year old girl. Even L could recognize the severity of the conditions he put her in. He didn’t have a choice though. He wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. 

That was when things started to get weird. 

For the first few days of Misa being in custody, nothing seemed unusual. She kept her mouth shut, no doubt of loyalty to Light, and the only thing that surprised L was how determined she was not to say anything. Even when Watari had exhausted all the usual methods, the girl kept her lips firmly sealed. L admired her grit. 

When she cracked though, it wasn’t in the way L had expected. 

“Kill me!” She had cried out. L watched over the fuzzy security footage as she begged for them to end her life. She couldn’t stand it anymore. All she wanted was to die. But even now, begging for death, when L questioned her she still wouldn’t admit to anything. 

Watari ended up having to gag her to keep her from biting her tongue. He could hear her muffled cries behind the gag, and while the Task Force seemed visibly uncomfortable at having to witness a breakdown like this, L kept watching the footage. 

Eventually, Misa had been reduced to making whimpering noises. At some point or another, her saw her nod her head, letting out another small noise of sadness, before promptly passing out. 

L reached to turn off the security footage, when he saw it. 

A strand of hair that had fallen over her blindfold. Something brushed it up, ever so slightly. Then, the strand fell back down again, and nothing else occurred. 

L stared at the TV screen. That couldn’t have just been a breeze. The room was windowless and there were no air conditioning vents close enough to have caused a gust like that. 

But what else could it have been? A ghost? 

_Maybe a shinigami,_ his mind unhelpfully supplied. 

L decided to turn off the TV for the time being, telling Watari to let him know when she woke up. 

Although it took a while, eventually Misa stirred back into consciousness. L had had Watari remove the gag, but he was prepared to put it back on if she tried anything. 

Instead though, Misa began talking to someone she called, ‘Mr. Stalker’. When L got on the mic to speak with her, she replied to him as this name, and he frowned. Why was she suddenly concocting a stalker story? Until this point, she hadn’t questioned why she was being kept there, or said anything about a stalker. But now she was acting as if she had no clue who was keeping her captive. 

At first, L suspected it was a ploy. But as time went on, it became obvious she had somehow convinced herself of this new scenario. This didn’t make any sense. She had been so tight-lipped earlier, only breaking her silence to beg for death, and now she was blabbering away, asking if her ‘stalker’ wanted a kiss on the cheek. None of it made any sense. 

Of course the next day only brought an even more drastic change. 

This time, it didn’t involve Misa. Instead, Light marched himself into the room, and made an announcement. 

“I… I could be Kira,” Light admitted in a soft voice. 

L was still facing the TV screen, the harsh glow acting as the only source of light in the room. L didn’t turn around to face Light, but he heard Soichiro gasp. 

“No, Light! What are you talking about?!” Soichiro demanded, his footsteps pounding across the floor. “Why would you even say something like that? Why?!” 

Glancing over his shoulder, L saw Soichiro gripping onto Light’s shoulders for dear life, while Light’s expression was remarkably somber. 

Unusual. There was no hard evidence that Light was Kira yet, so why would he come here to announce that he _could be_ Kira? What was he going to accomplish from this? 

“Look Dad,” Light began, turning his face away from his father, “if Ryuzaki is L, then it’s safe to say he’s the world’s best detective. And right now, he seems pretty sure that I’m Kira. We know L’s never been wrong before.” 

“Wh-What are you saying, Light?! Stop this!” Soichiro was pleading now, panic written clearly across his face at his son’s confession. 

“What about that FBI agent, Raye Penbar?” Light brought up, now looking at the floor. “It was me he was investigating right before he died. And I was in Aoyama on May 22nd. Also, I’m the first person in the Kanto region that Misa, the alleged Second Kira, approached. It’s all been me. “If I were in L’s place, even I would have come to the same conclusion.” 

This didn’t make sense. Where was he going with all of this? 

Light sighed and stepped away from his father, lifting his hands in front of him. “You see, subconsciously, I might be Kira. If that were the case, I could be him and not even know it.” 

And just like that, the mystery was gone. While Light looked like he was on the verge of tears as he stared at his hands, L was fighting back the urge not to snort. 

_Nice try, Light. You made this ploy in the 60’s, and it didn’t work,_ L thought to himself. That situation with Light was fresher in his mind than most of the others, since it had been the most recent. There had been a serial killer terrorizing a small community on the outskirts of Tokyo. The killer largely targeted either those that harmed others, or who were ‘useless’ to society. Light was one of the residents of that community, and had been somewhat involved with the investigation, though not to the level he was now. 

Still, one day Light had come into the office, admitting that maybe he was the killer, but only when he was asleep. L hadn’t believed it then, and he definitely didn’t believe it now. 

L of course didn’t voice any of his thoughts, so the dramatic ‘confession’ continued. 

“No Light,” Soichiro whispered in horror. 

“I… I’m not sure of anything anymore,” Light said softly, hair covering his eyes. “I’d never kill someone, but, unconsciously who knows what I’m capable of? Another me could be killing me as I sleep.” There was a slight break in his voice at the end, and L had to hand it to him, he was a damn good actor. 

Still, L knew why this theory didn’t work, besides the fact that it was complete bullshit. And he was sure Light knew it too. 

“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” L interrupted, tired of the Oscar winning performance going on in front of him. 

“Not possible? What do you mean?” Light asked, looking up. 

God, L wanted to roll his eyes so badly right now. 

“Well I never mentioned this to you,” _but I’m sure you found out somehow,_ “but at one point I had hidden surveillance cameras installed in your room for five days.” 

“Cameras?!” 

“Yes. Every single night you slept normally. Criminals whose names were broadcast were still dying, even though you would’ve had no way of knowing about them. But this didn’t prove your innocence to me. All it proved was that if you were Kira, no amount of camera surveillance would reveal that fact.” 

“Wouldn’t reveal that fact, huh?” Light asked, his tone edging on bitter. “I… I don’t know. It could be true. I have to admit, I’ve found myself thinking that… some criminals deserve to die. If I can think like Kira, then how can I be sure that I’m not actually him?” 

“Hold on, Light!” Matsuda jumped in. Huh, L had forgotten he was here. “I feel exactly the same way. I’ve found myself thinking before that some people would be better off dead. But still, that doesn’t mean we’re gonna go out and kill people, isn’t that right? Besides, criminals were still being killed even though you had no knowledge of them. I mean, the surveillance cameras proved it, didn’t they?” 

“Well, no. Because we were short of investigators then, we only watched him while he was at home. Truth is, we weren’t able to watch him every hour of the day. It’s possible he could’ve found some way to kill those criminals while he wasn’t at home,” Aizawa pointed out. 

Light raised his head slightly, and L met his gaze. His eyes were narrowed, and dark as could be. This was premeditated, and L knew it. There was a reason he chose to make this admission now. Picking up his tea, L took a sip as he thought over his options. 

They could incarcerate him like Misa. If criminals keep dying while he was under 24 hour surveillance, it would lead the Task Force to think he was innocent, wouldn’t it? That must’ve been what Light’s plan was. That was how he imagined this going. 

While a part of L didn’t want to give into what Light had obviously already plotted for, he knew it was the only logical step to take, and he wouldn’t be able to explain why he refused to do it. Besides, it’s not like he’d get anywhere letting Light remain free for the time being. Misa was proving to be useless, as he doubted she was suddenly going to start shouting all about how she and Light killed people anytime soon. If Light remained free, obviously criminals were going to keep dying. At least with this course of action, there was a chance—however small—that criminals might stop being killed. 

“Let’s do it,” L announced. “I need you to fully restrain Light Yagami and place him in solitary confinement.” 

“What?! You can’t!” Soichiro protested. 

“You… you want us to confine him? Seriously?” Matsuda asked in a shaky voice. 

“If we’re gonna do this, then it has to happen immediately,” L said. “From this point on, Light, you can’t be allowed to go anywhere I can’t see you.” 

“This is crazy! There’s no way my son could be Kira!” Soichiro continued, his voice rising. “My son isn’t capable of-” 

“It’s okay, Dad,” Light cut him off. “Something has to be done. As long as I’m having these doubts, I can’t work with you to catch Kira.” He paused, glancing at the ground again. “But Ryuzaki, I need you to promise me something. Until you can say with absolute certainty that I’m not Kira, you cannot set me free. No matter what I say, or what condition I’m in.” 

If L were really going to make that promise, Light would be locked in that cell for the rest of his life, because L was never going to be 100% certain that he wasn’t Kira. He knew him too well. 

Still, lying was easy enough. 

“You have my word,” L said. “Mr. Yagami, can you come up with some sort of excuse for Light’s absence, something to tell your family? And if you could do it now, that would be preferable.” 

“But this is all so sudden, what should I even say?” Soichiro pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I don’t even see why he should be in prison!” 

“Let it go, Dad,” Light sighed. “If I don’t do this, I won’t be able to live with myself.” 

“But… do you really mean that?” Soichiro asked, staring wide-eyed at Light. 

“Yeah,” Light said softly. “I believe that by giving up my very freedom, I’ll defeat this fear that Kira lurks within me.” 

_Oh, I’m sure you will,_ L thought to himself. 

Soon, Light was out of his proper suit jacket and button down shirt, and had been changed into a plain black shirt and sweatpants—precautions to make sure he hadn’t hidden anything in his pockets. Aizawa placed the blindfold over his head, while Mogi secured headphones over his ears so he couldn’t hear the rest of them speak. The whole time this was happening, Light stood silent, letting himself be guided around without any hint of distaste or fear. 

Once Aizawa snapped the cuffs on his wrists, L gave them the go ahead to take him to the cell. 

After Light had been put in his cell, it didn’t take long for Soichiro to request to be taken off the investigation. L had already figured he would probably ask for this, given that he was a reasonable man with a strong sense of justice, it wasn’t surprising that he had been able to recognize how his personal feelings were conflicting with the case. Watari had already prepared much nicer quarters for the Chief to stay in, so it wasn’t an issue to have him squared away. 

When Light had first been put in confinement, L had expected criminals to continue dying. He had presumed Light had put in some failsafe, some method to ensure that criminals kept dying when it was seemingly impossible for him to be the one doing it. That would be the only logical reason he would ask to be confined. 

But to L’s surprise, days passed, and the criminals had stopped being killed. Many names were broadcast, but not a single person was reported to have a heart attack. It threw L off because it implicated Light more than anything else had so far. He knew Light was smarter than this. So there had to be something else going on. 

Besides all the confusion regarding Light’s plan with all of this though, what was also shocking to L was Soichiro. He was miserable in his prison cell, taking this harder than Light or Misa seemed to be. More than anything though, he was adamant that no matter how things turned out, he was going to be leaving with his son. 

Over the past several centuries, L had never met Light’s parents. In fact, he’d rarely heard Light speak of his family, past mentioning that he had a mother and father, and occasionally a sibling or two. Soichiro Yagami was a strong-willed and deeply moral man, one who was more devoted to doing the right thing than anyone else L had ever met. He loved his family—and especially his son—fiercely. So L understood his reasoning for asking to be confined, and being determined to share his son’s fate no matter what. To him, if Light was Kira, it was his own fault, not Light’s. It would be his own wrongdoing for having raised a child capable of that kind of evil. 

L knew it wasn’t Soichiro’s fault though. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was simply Light’s fate. Around and around and around the two of them would dance in their eternal games, the string of fate that connected them becoming more twisted with every step. Soon, this string of fate was going to wrap around L’s neck, and Light would finally win. 

But L wasn’t giving up yet.

♰⁜♰

A full week passed. Still no murders. Soichiro was doing badly. Misa was still thinking she was being kept by a stalker. And Light was just sitting in his cell, rarely speaking. 

Then, something changed. 

It was nothing out of the ordinary. L simply asked Light how he was holding up. Then, Light had said something about needing to get rid of his pride, and it was as if a switch had been flipped. 

L watched as Light’s eyes widened, and he looked around frantically in the cell before focusing back on the camera. He started babbling about how this entire thing was pointless, and started insisting that he _wasn’t_ Kira. 

“Do you really think a serial killer could commit those crimes without being aware of them?!” Light had nearly shouted, his voice breaking with desperation. 

He… he was blowing a hole in his own theory. That was the excuse he had used. Why the hell would he backtrack on it now? 

This didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t like Light to go back on his own logic like this, nor was it like him to beg and plead. He continued on, yelling that he wasn’t Kira and that he had to have been framed. It almost made L wonder if Light Yagami had been possessed, because this wasn’t like him at all. 

He was desperate. Light didn’t _do_ desperate. He didn’t whine, he didn’t spout off ridiculous theories, none of this was like him. Ironically enough, for the first time in a long time, Light’s words felt genuine to L. 

Even Aizawa and Matsuda were able to pick up on this change. They all knew this wasn’t like the Light they were familiar with. But now with the murders having stopped, it wasn’t as if they could release him even if they wanted to. 

So L waited for the next weird thing to happen. 

15 days into Light’s confinement, it did. 

The murders had started up again. 2 weeks worth of criminals, dead in a single day. To Matsuda and Soichiro, this meant Light’s name had to be cleared. But L knew better. This had to have been part of his plan. His weird behavior hadn’t let up, he still begged for L to release him and insisted he wasn’t Kira every chance he got. But he had to be the mastermind behind this. None of it made sense otherwise. 

L decided not to tell Light that the murders had started again though. Light had no access to any outside information right now. Maybe if he thought his plan was failing, he would let something slip. 

Light kept up with the act, insisting he wasn’t Kira. He told L to look into his eyes, to see if they were the eyes of someone who was lying. 

And L saw truth in those reddish brown irises he was far too familiar with. 

More time passed, and L waited for a slip up. Something from Light, something from Misa, just anything for him to grab onto. But there was nothing. 

Aizawa and Matsuda were getting antsy. They wanted to know why L refused to let Light out even though Kira had been back to business for ages now, and why he still hadn’t told Light the killings had started again. L wasn’t telling them anything because he knew there was more to it. He just couldn’t explain that to them. 

One night, after the task force had gone home, L and Watari were seated in the living room of their hotel suite. L had his eyes trained on the surveillance cameras like he always did, and Watari was picking up random dishes around the room. 

L watched from the corner of his eye as Watari took a plastic blood bag out of the mini fridge and carefully poured some of the dark red liquid into two wine glasses. L reached his hand out, still watching Light’s sleeping figure on the cot in the cell. 

He took a sip of the drink when Watari handed it to him. It was so much easier these days to acquire blood thanks to blood banks and the underpaid workers who guarded the stashes. While L found the modern world a bit confusing at times, he was grateful for this part of his life being made rather simple. 

With his glass finished, he set it down on the coffee table, lost in thought about what Light’s plan could be. 

L was quickly brought back to reality though by a voice. 

“When did you decide to stop trusting me, Ryuzaki?” 

Whipping his head towards Watari, L found the older man not even looking at him. He was wiping down his own wine glass while staring out the window at the Tokyo skyline. 

“What do you mean, Watari?” L asked, frowning. 

“I’ve known you for 400 years, so don’t treat me like a fool, Ryuzaki. I can tell when you’re not telling me something,” Watari said. He put the glass down and met L’s gaze. There wasn’t any anger or hurt in his face. Just open curiosity. 

L didn’t respond, so Watari continued. 

“From the start of this case you’ve been fixated on Light Yagami. Now, you know I trust your instincts, but the fact that you’ve kept him in confinement for this long despite the fact that we have no evidence against him tells me that you know something I do not. I can see it in your eyes when Aizawa and Matsuda question you. You have a reason you’re doing this. When we’ve worked on cases in the past, you’ve always told me every hunch or idea you had. But you don’t trust me with that anymore.” Watari sat down into the puffy chair beside the couch L was on. “I’m not upset, and you don’t have to tell me what you know. I’m just simply curious as to when you decided you couldn’t trust me anymore.” 

For a moment, L was left speechless. 

He’d never had to work with Watari on a case involving Light before, which is how he’d been able to keep this part of his life separate from his mentor. But he should’ve known things wouldn’t be the same this time. Nothing was like it had been before. Watari was going to find out eventually. 

L didn’t want Watari to think he didn’t trust him. He did. In retrospect, keeping this from Watari simply because he didn’t want a lecture was ridiculously childish. Now, more than ever, he needed Watari’s counsel. Because he didn’t know what to think anymore. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” L began, choosing his words carefully. “You know you’ve always been the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father, and that hasn’t changed.” Shit. How did he even begin to explain his situation with Light? 

“And I’ve always thought of you as a son, I only hope I haven’t done anything to make you think that’s not true anymore,” Watari said, folding his hands on his lap. 

“No, you haven’t. This is just… something difficult to explain,” L said, wishing he had a pile of sugar cubes to stack right now. 

Okay, might as well just start from the beginning. 

“Remember how I told you I was turned when I was visiting Japan as a translator for the Dutch?” L asked. Watari nodded. “When I was attacked, I wasn’t alone. I had made… a friend. And he was killed by the vampire that attacked us, and I watched him die with my own eyes. The courtesan was too late to save him, but she turned me. And as you know I made my way back to England after that.” L glanced back to the security footage where Light was asleep, and remembered the way his blood had stained the cobblestone beneath the two of them that night. 

From there, L explained it all. He told Watari about finding Light in Dejima for a second time, nearly 50 years after the first. He told Watari about the dreams, then the forgery, and how he ended up getting hanged for his crimes. Then he explained the third time, the fourth time, and so on. 

When he finished, he looked back up to meet Watari’s gaze. 

“You want to know why I refuse to let Light Yagami go? It’s because I’ve known Light for 400 years, and he is _always_ the one at the center of everything. He has to be Kira. There’s no other reason he’d be here.” 

Watari didn’t react to this. He brought a hand up to his chin and nodded slowly, thinking through what L had just told him. 

“What a cruel hand fate has dealt you, L,” Watari said softly after a few moments of silence. 

L didn’t know how to respond to that. Thankfully, he didn’t have to, because Watari quickly got right back to business. 

“So what do you make of Light’s current situation?” Watari asked, leaning back in his chair. 

Just like him. Back to the case. Right now, that was exactly what L needed from his mentor. 

“I’m confused by many things,” L said, biting his thumb as he turned back to the screen. “In the beginning, I suspected he was volunteering to confine himself so the killings could continue and he would be proven innocent. But then the killings stopped for two weeks, making him seem completely guilty. Along with that, there was his odd change in behavior. He went from claiming he might be Kira subconsciously, to outright denying that possibility and begging me to let him go. It didn’t make any sense for him to contradict himself like that.” L paused, folding his hands in front of him. “Along with that… he’s telling the truth, Watari. When he asked me to look into his eyes, I could see that he truly believes that he’s not Kira.” 

“I could tell that shook you more than you let on,” Watari agreed. “Do you think it’s possible that Kira is less of a fake name he uses, and more of an entity? After all, we already know this case is supernatural in some regard. Perhaps ‘Kira’ possessed Light, and when Light was imprisoned, it left him and found a new host, taking Light’s memories of being Kira with it?” 

“I understand that’s a possibility, but I just don’t see why Light would’ve volunteered to be confined. Or rather, why the Kira spirit would’ve let him do that.” 

“But what about if the Kira spirit was dormant at the time? Light did say he could’ve been Kira subconsciously.” 

“You see, I didn’t buy that bit at all. Back in 1960, Light was a serial killer in a small town. He tried that same excuse, claiming that he was killing in his sleep or something like that. Of course it was a lie, so I’m not buying it this time either,” L explained. 

“However Ryuzaki, you must consider that this time is likely very different from your case in 1960. He was killing people with his own hands then, right? Now, he has some psychic ability. He very well could’ve been telling us the truth.” 

L sighed, burying his face in his hands. “From a logical standpoint I know that you’re right. But I _know_ Light. He’s always the mastermind. It doesn’t feel right to think that he was just being used by some demonic spirit this time around. The moves he took, the way we had been playing our game up until this point, it felt like Light, not some spirit. I know how he thinks, and this is what he would’ve done. If our theory about this being some type of spirit, Light had to be working with it, which means confining himself was a part of their plan.” 

Groaning, he suddenly straightened up in his seat and picked his wine glass up off the table. He made his way over to the mini fridge and pulled out the blood bag, pouring himself another glass. 

“You’ll figure it out in time, I’m sure you will,” Watari reassured him. “But for now, I don’t think you have a choice. You have to let Light out of confinement.” 

Taking a sip of his drink, L nodded. “You’re right. I just have to devise some test to make sure Light genuinely doesn’t remember being Kira, and that Misa Amane no longer has the powers of Kira. I can’t release either of them until I know that for sure.” 

He was silent for a moment, thinking over his options. 

“I’ll need to call the Chief for this.”

♰⁜♰

Others would say he went too far with his plan that day, but L was just doing what he knew was necessary. 

After he had managed to convince Soichiro to actually go through with it, all that was left was hoping that Soichiro could pull it off. And he did. His performance was perfect, and it was clear to L at least that acting must have run in the family. 

No one died. Light looked as if he were on the verge of tears, while Misa seemed like she wanted to tackle Soichiro to the ground. But they were all very much alive. 

So L knew that for right now, Light had to have lost his memories of being Kira. 

Still, L knew Light, and he knew that Light would definitely have figured out a plan for his memories to be returned to him at some point. Even if he wasn’t Kira right now, that didn’t mean it would stay that way. Which meant that L couldn’t let him go back to his normal life. 

There really weren’t any ulterior motives to L’s decision. He couldn’t keep Light confined in a cell, but he couldn’t let him go back to his total freedom either. The best solution for this was for him to be in a position where L could watch him at all times. So: handcuffs. 

It wasn’t until the first night they were sharing a room that L realized he had made one fatal mistake. 

It was going to be nearly impossible for him to keep up his aloof behavior around Light if they were together 24/7. 

...this was going to be very interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so in canon I feel like L and Watari kind of have more of a mentor protegee relationship, but I feel like in the context of this fic it makes more sense for the two of them to be more like father and son given the fact that they've known each other for several centuries so I wanted to showcase that in this chapter
> 
> also I know a lot of people in the fandom like to hate on Soichiro Yagami and say he's a bad father which like! valid! he's not a great dad! that whole thing about making Light think he was gonna kill him was messed up! but my personal interpretation of his character is that he loves his son _a lot_ and his desperation to find Kira is because if Light was Kira, that would mean _he_ failed Light as a father because he raised a serial killer. Again this is just my own take on him, but I like to think he wouldn't blame Light so much if it was revealed he was Kira and would instead blame himself
> 
> anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! please leave a comment if you did, they make my day! <3


	5. talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L is depressed, and Light is annoyed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey my good peeps
> 
> thank you so much for the love on the last chapter! you guys are always so nice about my updates, and I'm really excited for you all to read this one because we're finally getting into my own plot for this fic hehe
> 
> this chapter is actually going to be primarily from Light's POV! Finally we get to a see a bit more of what our favorite amnesiac is thinking
> 
> anyway I think y'all will definitely like this one ;) hope you enjoy!

When Ryuzaki first told Light they were going to be handcuffed together, Light thought that while this was going to be frustrating, it was going to be worth it if they ended up catching Kira in the end. Sure, Ryuzaki was a bit strange, but they had the same goal here. That should’ve been enough to smooth over any disagreements the two might have. 

Light didn’t realize Ryuzaki was going to _stop wanting to work._

Ever since the handcuffs had been put on and they’d moved into their new headquarters, Ryuzaki had been acting strange—by his standards at least. Where Light and Soichiro were trying to get new leads with the investigation, Ryuzaki just wasn’t doing much of… anything. He would occasionally chime in here and there, but for the most part he would just sit as far away as his and Light’s handcuffs would allow, staring off into space while eating some brightly colored dessert. 

At first, Light thought it was just fatigue. While Light was ready to jump right into the investigation head first, he’d also been stuck in a prison cell with nothing to do for over fifty days. The others had been working constantly for months on end. Of course they all had a right to be a bit tired. 

But as time passed and Ryuzaki continued to separate himself, Light became suspicious. Eventually, the subject had come to a head during a ‘date’ between Light and Misa. While Misa hadn’t been happy about Ryuzaki joining in on their day, Light was secretly relieved that he wouldn’t have to be alone with her for an extended period of time. God knew it would save him a headache. 

(He still wasn’t sure why he had agreed to date her in the first place. But given their situation, it wasn’t as if he could break up with her now. Hopefully he’d figure out a way to do it some time down the line.) 

The date was going as well as it could’ve gone. Misa pretended things were normal until she complained about not wanting to kiss in front of Ryuzaki, Ryuzaki made some comments about cake, and somehow things spiraled. 

Light wasn’t sure what made him punch Ryuzaki, because he’d never thrown a punch at someone in his life. There was just something so frustrating about seeing Ryuzaki completely give up. It wasn’t like him at all, and it pissed Light off to see him ruining the investigation because he was pouting. Light wanted to see the old Ryuzaki. The one who wouldn’t give up for any reason, the one who was willing to die for the investigation. Light knew he was better than what he was doing now. 

Many hours and several ice packs later, Light and Ryuzaki ended up in their shared bedroom. A large purple bruise was already blooming under Light’s jaw, while there was an even darker ring than usual hanging under Ryuzaki’s left eye. 

They were sitting on their bed, laptops on both of their laps. Light was looking over case files, eyes scanning for anything that could be looked into further. All he needed was one thing. One note that stuck out as slightly unusual. Something he could explore further. Even if it led to nothing, it was still eliminating possibilities. 

But there was nothing. Sighing as he closed yet another document, Light glanced to Ryuzaki’s screen, and frowned when he saw what was on it. 

In jarring neon letters across a black webpage were the English words, ‘COOL MATH GAMES’. On the screen was a small grey blob that kinda looked like Kirby in terms of shape, and it was running through what seemed like a strange obstacle course platform. Ryuzaki was focused on the screen, his fingers dancing over the arrow keys as he made the small grey blob jump over obstacles. 

For a moment, Light just sat in shock. He watched as Ryuzaki played, unsure of what else to do. After only a few moments, Light quickly came to the conclusion that Ryuzaki sucked, because he died three times in the span of a minute. 

“What are you doing?” Light asked as he watched Ryuzaki fall through one of the holes in the platform for the fourth time. 

“It’s a training exercise for my brain. Improves my reflexes,” Ryuzaki replied without looking away, blinking as he jumped over a large gap in the platform. 

“That’s a game meant for children,” Light pointed out. 

“Doesn’t mean it’s not entertaining,” Ryuzaki shrugged. 

There were another few seconds of silence. Ryuzaki died again, and Light clenched his fists. 

“So you’ve really just given up?” Light asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“I haven’t given up, but like I said earlier today I’m depressed,” Ryuzaki replied, gaze still focused on the computer screen. 

Gritting his teeth, Light reached forward and yanked the laptop off of Ryuzaki’s legs, slamming it shut and sliding it to the end of the bed. “That’s bullshit. You’re pouting because you were wrong about me and Misa.” 

Ryuzaki, whose hands were still outstretched from where they had been on the keyboard, slowly turned to look at Light. 

“Starting another fight at this time of night wouldn’t be very kind to Watari,” he commented. 

Clenching his fists again, Light took a measured breath. 

“I’m not trying to start a fight,” he said, forcing his anger down. “I just know you, Ryuzaki. It’s not like you to get so hung up on a single idea that the minute it’s proven wrong you give up and sit in the corner.” 

To Light’s surprise, Ryuzaki let out a bitter laugh at that. 

“Oh, and you know me so well, Light Yagami?” There was a hint of a challenge in his voice. As if Ryuzaki wanted Light to prove him wrong. 

“I do know you,” Light shot back. “You’re not just the world’s best detective because you’re a genius. Once you get locked onto a case, you never give up on it. It becomes an obsession for you, not just because you hate to lose, but because there’s a satisfaction that comes with solving the puzzle that’s unlike any other feeling in the world. You live for the challenge of it, because if you’re not constantly working on a case, you’re bored out of your mind. That’s why this behavior is so unusual for you.” 

Ryuzaki blinked at him in surprise. To be honest, Light was surprised with himself too. He wasn’t sure where most of that had even come from. Sure, he was convinced he was right, but he didn’t know what led him to making those conclusions about Ryuzaki. It all just made sense to him. 

“Once again, you’ve figured me out,” Ryuzaki said softly. 

Light wasn’t sure how he did it. Understanding Ryuzaki was just simultaneously the easiest thing and hardest thing for him to do. 

“You’re completely right,” Ryuzaki continued, not waiting for a response from Light. “In truth, I’m not depressed. I’m actually frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? Because you were wrong?” Light asked, frowning. 

“No, I still don’t think I was wrong about you or Misa. I’m positive you two were both the Kira and Second Kira at some point in the past. Instead I’m frustrated because I thought I understood these things so well by now. But none of this makes sense anymore, and it’s maddening to me.” 

“Nothing about this case is normal, Ryuzaki. It’s understandable that you’re confused about what’s going on,” Light said in some awkward attempt at comfort. 

“That’s what’s frustrating me the most,” Ryuzaki admitted, leaning back so he was sitting against the pillows on the bed. “This case isn’t like any of the others. I can’t predict things like I usually do, and it’s making me question truths I’ve known for… years and years.” 

There was something off in Ryuzaki’s usually monotone voice. Like he was saying two things at once. As if there was another layer to his words Light just couldn’t understand. 

“I get it, Ryuzaki. We’re all frustrated. But that doesn’t mean you can just give up. If anything, that should just make you want to get answers more. It’s a challenge you haven’t seen before. Doesn’t that just make it all the more interesting to solve?” Light said, choosing to ignore Ryuzaki’s odd tone. 

Ryuzaki sighed. “I suppose so. Still, I don’t know if I’ll be up to my normal level of function for the next few days.” 

Light opened his mouth to scold Ryuzaki again, to ask him if he had listened to anything Light said, but stopped himself. They’d already fought once today. He was lucky to have gotten this much out of L. He should just count his luck for the day and not push things further. 

Suddenly, Ryuzaki leaned over to his night stand, and when he straightened back up, he had a box of strawberry pocky in his hand. Light watched as he popped open the top, taking out one of the sticks and biting into it. 

“Ryuzaki, why do you eat sweets all the time?” Light asked without thinking. 

Ryuzaki blinked, large eyes focusing back on Light. He considered the question for a moment, before a barely there smile seemed to quirk at the corners of his lips. 

“In all honesty, I don’t have a particularly strong sense of taste. Usually people who can’t taste well tend to gravitate towards spicy things, but I actually can’t stand spiciness. However, I find that if I eat extremely sugary things, I can taste those better than ‘healthier’ foods, so I gravitate towards that,” he explained, finishing the pocky stick. 

That… wasn’t the answer Light was expecting. 

“I wouldn’t have guessed that, Ryuzaki,” Light said. “I just assumed you had some scientific reason for eating sweets all the time. Like it increases your deductive reasoning skills by 15% or something.” 

“No, it’s just a matter of personal preference,” Ryuzaki replied. He picked out another pocky stick and held it towards Light. “You want one?” 

“No thanks, I’m good.” Light waved the sweet off, and Ryuzaki shrugged before biting into it. 

Ryuzaki stared at him for a moment, narrowing his eyes as he chewed on his pocky. 

“I never see you eat sweets, even when Watari offers some to the entire Task Force. Do you not like sweets?” 

Oh. While Ryuzaki was known for interrogating Light, he didn’t usually ask questions like this. Just normal things about Light instead of things that would give him hints as to if he was Kira or not. (Though knowing Ryuzaki, he could probably find some way to spin that why Light not liking sweets was another indication that he was Kira.) 

“Not particularly,” Light answered. “Most sweet stuff I eat is just too sugary for me to really enjoy. I pretty much have the opposite of a sweet tooth.” He stopped talking, not wanting to ramble, but Ryuzaki was still staring at him expectantly, so after a moment he decided to go on. “I just prefer to eat foods that are… clean tasting I guess? Like salads or sushi. I’m not really a fan of anything overly greasy or sweet or salty.” 

Ryuzaki nodded. “I can see why you would prefer those types of foods. It makes sense given your personality.” 

Light raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Just that you must take your appearance into consideration with your diet. Your avoidance of greasy foods must be the reason you have such clear skin,” 

“I think more of the credit for my skin is due to my skincare routine,” Light laughed. “I’m shocked you have as good of skin as you do. All you eat is sugar and your skincare routine literally just consists of you splashing water on your face before you go to sleep.” 

“You don’t see me when I shower, Light. For all you know I could be hiding a 12 step skincare routine from you because it could give a hint to my true identity.” With Ryuzaki’s deadpan delivery, it took Light a second to actually process what Ryuzaki said. Then, the realization hit him like a truck. 

Ryuzaki just made a _joke_. 

Light barked out a surprised laugh. “Oh please, I’m sure you just rub bar soap on your face and call it a day,” he teased. 

That barely there smile returned to L’s face. “Not always. Sometimes I use shampoo instead of bar soap.” 

“I feel like I need to talk to Watari about getting you face wash,” Light said, now smiling. “You’re going to end up with no skin left at this rate.” 

This was weird. He and Ryuzaki were just talking casually and joking with each other. That had never happened before. In the past, all of their conversations had had that veneer of suspicion over top of them. L always watching Light, trying to spot any hints, find any clues that could confirm that he was Kira. But this felt like just a normal conversation. 

It wasn’t… unpleasant. Not at all. Light actually was enjoying this. 

Deciding he wanted to continue this casual conversation with Ryuzaki, Light thought of another question to ask. 

“Ryuzaki, can I ask you something else?” 

“No, my real name isn’t Hideki Ryuga,” Ryuzaki deadpanned. 

Light snorted. “Wow, what a shocker.” He shook his head, smiling to himself. “No, I was just wondering if you enjoyed playing tennis when you were younger?” 

“What makes you ask that?” Ryuzaki questioned, putting the box of pocky away. 

“I dunno, I was just thinking how you really don’t seem to be the sporty type, and then I remembered our tennis match and how good you were, and I was just curious as to if you liked playing it back when you still did.” 

And there it was again. That look that Light couldn’t read. The one that a stranger would almost call fond, but Light knew had to be something else because Ryuzaki would never look at Light with _fondness_. 

“I didn’t dislike it,” Ryuzaki replied after a moment, looking away from Light. “It wasn’t my favorite thing in the world, but it was a way to pass the time, and I enjoyed the competitive aspect of it.” Of course. Ryuzaki loved winning. “Since you asked me that, can I ask why you quit tennis?” 

Light shrugged. “I just felt like it was time. I’d won the junior championship, but I knew I didn’t want to pursue it professionally because I had already decided I wanted to be a cop. So I figured I might as well do it sooner rather than later.” 

Ryuzaki hummed and nodded at this. “You’ve wanted to be a cop for most of your life, yes?” Light nodded. “Why?” 

“Well, when I was a kid, I really looked up to my dad,” Light began, leaning back on his pillows to stare at the ceiling. “He was always the type of person you could rely on. Our neighbors always knew they could come to our house if they needed anything—someone to watch their kid because they unexpectedly had to go out and didn’t have a babysitter, someone to check through their house because they’d gotten home late and found a window broken, my dad would always help with problems like that. And I wanted to be like that when I grew up. Someone that could help others.” Light paused and sighed. 

“Then I got older, and I started seeing more and more terrible stuff on the news. I realized we lived in a really unfair world that wasn’t safe. Justice was rarely served, and the innocent were punished over and over again. I just realized that if I wanted to help others, I wanted to do something where I could help serve justice like that. Punish people that would usually get away with stuff like that. So that just strengthened my resolve to become a cop.” 

As Light finished speaking, he felt Ryuzaki’s eyes boring into him. He turned to look at Ryuzaki, and fully realized the implication of what he just said. _Punish people that would usually get away with stuff like that._

Clenching his jaw, Light forced himself to meet Ryuzaki’s gaze. 

“That just upped my Kira percentage, didn’t it?” He asked softly, ignoring the wave of nausea rolling through him. 

Ryuzaki didn’t respond, and turned away from Light. 

They didn’t talk for the rest of the night.

♰⁜♰

The next day played out rather similarly to the past few days. The task force tried to work, digging through files and news reports for any new leads on Kira, while Ryuzaki sat in the corner and stacked sugar cubes. 

Light didn’t see Misa today. She asked him to come visit her room again, but Light refused, citing that he didn’t want to get into another argument with Ryuzaki. However, that was a lie. Light knew he wasn’t going to get into another fight with Ryuzaki. Not after their conversation last night. 

That conversation—while not revealing anything drastic about Ryuzaki—changed their dynamic somehow. It was as if it had broken the invisible tension that had sat between them ever since they’d first met at To-Oh. The constant push and pull, the way Ryuzaki always looked at Light as if they were playing a silent battle of wits. For once, Light had felt like he’d gotten a glimpse of what Ryuzaki was like as a person, not just a detective. 

And it made him want to know more. 

So that night, once they were back in their room after another unsuccessful day, Light found himself asking Ryuzaki another question. 

“How did you become a detective?” 

For Light, it was difficult to imagine Ryuzaki as anything _but_ a detective. Of course he knew there was a time when Ryuzaki didn’t spend all his time chasing criminals, but the idea of the dark-haired man doing anything but that felt almost wrong to Light. 

When the question was asked, Ryuzaki glanced up from his laptop. Like the night before, he had been playing computer games. However, unlike last night, he didn’t try to continue playing when Light spoke. 

“You want to know how I ended up in this career?” Ryuzaki asked, fingers freezing over the keyboard. Light nodded, and Ryuzaki pursed his lips before closing the laptop and pushing it away. 

“It was Watari who brought me into this career,” Ryuzaki began, turning to face Light on the bed. “He was working as a detective himself when we first met. He was helping a woman who had been robbed, and was searching for the thief. At the time, I lived on the streets, and had been in the area when the robbery occurred. I had seen the thief pass by, and deduced his hiding place based on logical reasoning. I overheard the conversation between Watari and his client, and told him where I thought the thief was. Later, once they’d arrested the man and returned the jewels, Watari asked me how I knew that and I explained that I had just figured it out. After that, he took me in, and trained me to be the detective I am today.” 

“You lived on the streets?” Light asked, blinking in shock at Ryuzaki. “How old were you?” 

A barely there smile flickered across Ryuzaki’s face. “Much younger than I am now,” he answered, staring at the wall. “And yes, I did live on the streets. I had been orphaned at a very young age.” 

“Oh…” Usually, Light would apologize for a faux pas like this, but he knew Ryuzaki, and knew that wasn’t necessary. Ryuzaki wouldn’t care about Light apologizing for bringing up a touchy subject, because that wasn’t the kind of thing he got upset over. So instead, Light just moved onto his next question. “So, uh, you don’t have to answer this, but what is your relationship with Watari exactly? Because he seems to almost act like a butler for you, but from what you just told me it almost sounds like he’s an adoptive father to you.” 

Ryuzaki shrugged. “I think of him as both a mentor, and as a father. He’s taught me nearly everything I know about being a detective, and he has also provided guidance and advice in the same way a father would.” 

That made sense. Light could easily see the part about Watari being a mentor to Ryuzaki, and he supposed in their private moments their father-son dynamic became more apparent. While he still didn’t understand why Watari acted almost like a butler to Ryuzaki in front of others, it wasn’t really his place to try and make sense of that. 

With this revelation though, another question popped into Light’s head. One that he almost didn’t want to ask but knew was going to bug him if he didn’t. 

“Ryuzaki,” Light began, staring at his hands in his lap. “If we had met under different circumstances… one where I wasn’t a suspect in your investigation… do you think we’d have some sort of mentor mentee relationship going on?” 

The thing was, Light wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to be. While a part of him wanted to have a friendship with Ryuzaki, the idea of Ryuzaki being a _mentor_ to him didn’t exactly feel… right. 

Still, Ryuzaki’s response hurt more than he expected it to. 

“No, we wouldn’t,” he answered, not looking at Light. 

There was a pang in his chest. Of course. If Light wasn’t a suspect, he wouldn’t even have been invited to join the investigation. The only reason Ryuzaki had bothered to extend an invitation to a first year college student was just so he could keep an eye on him. 

“I could never be a mentor to you, Light, because I have nothing to teach you,” Ryuzaki continued. Light whipped his head towards Ryuzaki, who was watching him with his bulging gaze, absently rubbing his thumb against his forefinger. 

“What do you mean?” Light asked, frowning at him. Was this an insult of some kind? 

“I mean that I consider you to be on par with my own intelligence and deductive reasoning skills. I could never be a mentor to you because you are my equal.” 

Ryuzaki’s tone remained in its same monotone that it always did, but the words still knocked the wind out of Light. 

That couldn’t be true. Ryuzaki couldn’t see Light as his equal. He was the greatest detective in the world, and Light was a random 18 year old who had just gotten into university. 

But when Light forced himself to meet Ryuzaki’s gaze, he saw nothing but the truth in it. 

Ever since they had first met at To-Oh, Light had felt a strange connection to Ryuzaki. It was a draw towards him, something in his gut telling him that he needed to know Ryuzaki, had to stay close to him. 

L and Light were very alike. Light knew this. Not just in their intelligence, but in the way they used their minds. The way they saw the world, the way they looked at others, it was so different from everyone else around them, but they both could recognize it in each other. Sure, they had different ways of approaching the world from their unique perspective. They both saw other people as obstacles. But for Light, when he had to deal with people, he would try to find the path of least resistance. Flashing smiles and spitting out charming quips so he could find the easiest way to get what he wanted. L meanwhile took a much more direct path. He would tell people exactly what he needed, and wouldn’t budge until he got his way. He barreled straight through others, and if they didn’t get out of the way, they would be forced to pick themselves up afterwards because L sure wouldn’t help them back to their feet. 

They were opposites in their methods, but they still fit together like missing puzzle pieces. 

In the back of Light’s mind, he recalled an old Greek myth he had read about in Plato’s _Symposium_. There was a story that said all humans had once had four arms, four legs, and two faces. But Zeus feared the power of these humans, and so he separated them. This way, humans would forever be condemned to finding their other halves. 

For a moment—just one brief moment—Light thought that if that were true, L would be his other half. 

Then, just as quickly as the notion appeared in Light’s mind, he shook it off. No need to have ridiculous thoughts like that right now. 

“That… means a lot to hear,” Light said quietly after a moment, his voice rougher than he would’ve liked it. There was a beat of silence from Ryuzaki, and Light decided to keep talking to keep it from becoming uncomfortable. “After this investigation is over, I hope we can stay friends, Ryuzaki. Hell, maybe we can even work on some cases together after I become a full fledged detective with the police.” He offered Ryuzaki a smile, but it wasn’t the sharp charming one he gave others when he wanted something from them. This was something more… hopeful. 

Slowly, a small smile spread across Ryuzaki’s own face. 

“I’d like that, Light,” he said. 

But Light could tell that it wasn’t genuine, because his smile was possibly the saddest Light had ever seen.

♰⁜♰

After those two nights, the dynamic between Ryuzaki and Light permanently shifted. Every few nights, either Light or Ryuzaki would ask the other a personal question. It was never anything intense or related to the investigation. Rather, it was just about the person themself. 

_What kind of music do you like?_ Light liked indie music, particularly acoustic pieces or piano medleys. Ryuzaki liked classical music, having a particular soft spot for Tchaikovsky. But also (to Light’s shock and horror), Ryuzaki also had an entire playlist of nightcore songs on Youtube saved. 

_Watch any anime?_ Light hadn’t seen much anime, but always found himself drifting back to Princess Mononoke after seeing it when he was younger. Ryuzaki actually really enjoyed Neon Genesis Evangelion, although Light had never seen it. 

_Weirdest case you’d ever helped solve?_ Light recounted the story of a man who came into the police station claiming to have murdered his wife, when she was actually found perfectly alive and well down in Nagasaki. In turn, Ryuzaki told Light a very light retelling of the Los Angeles BB murder case. 

Slowly, Light began to feel like he could actually truly call Ryuzaki his friend. During the day, they still acted in the same normal, professional manner as always. But at night, the professionalism fell away, and the two would talk for hours about random things. It wasn’t every night, but Light enjoyed the times they did speak to their fullest extent. 

About two weeks after they’d first begun talking like this though, something happened. 

It wasn’t anything during their conversation. They’d talked briefly about Western movies that night before having fallen asleep (they had been arguing as to whether Julia Roberts was better in Pretty Woman or Notting Hill), before eventually deciding it was time to get some rest. 

Light fell asleep easily. He had worked hard pouring over files that day, and by the time Ryuzaki turned out the lamp on his side of the bed, Light was already unconscious. 

He didn’t sleep for long though. 

Light’s eyes flew open to a dark room. 

Gasping for air, he lurched upright, clutching at his neck as his heart raced in his ears. He could still feel it. The man’s sharpened teeth piercing the delicate skin of his neck, the world spinning around him as he got colder and colder, the sight of L, laying on the ground with blood spilling out from his head, and seeing the fear written plainly across his face. 

Light couldn’t breathe. That dream had felt so real. _Too_ real. Dreams were usually hazy and indistinct, but Light could recall this with startling clarity. His hands were still tingling from the lack of blood, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. 

Suddenly, there was movement in the bed beside him, and Light jumped before realizing it was Ryuzaki. 

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Ryuzaki asked, peering at him with his wide eyes. 

“I-I-” Light tried to stammer out an answer, tell him it was just a nightmare, but he still felt like he couldn’t breathe. His neck was throbbing, his heart was pounding in his ears, and he was starting to shiver. What was this? Was this a panic attack? Light hadn’t had one of those in years. 

“Light? Do I need to call for a doctor?” 

Light shook his head, wincing when he heard his own name fall from Ryuzaki’s lips. Why did that sound wrong? Light was his name. But it sounded like a stranger’s name right now. 

Threading his fingers in his hair, he gasped for breath again as parts of the dream continued to replay in his mind. 

Pressed against a wall, hot lips against his own, fingers threading in his hair. 

Then pain. So much pain. Blood, a slowing heartbeat, _fear._

He felt himself slipping away. Losing consciousness. It was as if Light was remembering what it felt like to die. 

“Light, please, try to say something to me. I’m getting worried.” 

Ryuzaki’s voice cut through the memory, and Light’s chest clenched. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, struggling to form a coherent sentence as thoughts bounced around the inside of his skull. 

_Light Light Light- that was wrong. That’s not his name. What’s his name? Why isn’t Light his name? Of course he’s Light!_

But that wasn’t his name in the dream. He had another name. It wasn’t Kira—he wasn’t Kira! It was something else. 

Then, Ryuzaki spoke again. 

“Light, can you hear me?” 

“S-Stop calling me that,” Light choked out, tightening the grip he had on his hair as his breathing sped up. “Don’t call me Light.” 

“But… that’s your name,” Ryuzaki said. 

“I know! But just don’t- don’t call me that right now,” Light told him in a shaky voice. He was starting to tremble violently, and he couldn’t figure out how to slow down and _think_. All he could think about was how wrong it felt to be called Light and how fast his heart was pounding and how much his neck hurt. 

Ryuzaki’s next words were much softer. 

“Should I call you something else instead? Would that help calm you down?” 

Fragments were still flashing behind his eyelids, and with it came a name. What Ryuzaki had called him in the dream. 

He couldn’t think clearly. It didn’t make any sense. But in this moment, he didn’t feel like Light Yagami and he wasn’t Kira but one name kept echoing in his ears. 

“Akisada,” Light whispered. He’d never heard the name before in his life, but it was what Ryuzaki had called him in the dream. And in this moment, in this panicked state between dream and reality, that was the only thing Light could grab onto. 

Beside him, Ryuzaki sucked in a sharp breath. 

Then, there was a hand gently resting on his arm. 

“Akisada, take a few moments to breathe in and out,” Ryuzaki instructed. He said the name so easily, with no hesitation or confusion, and Light found he was able to listen to what he was telling him and took a deep breath. 

Ryuzaki breathed with him, moving to rest both hands on Light’s shoulders, and Light followed his lead. One breath in, one breath out. Every time Ryuzaki repeated the unfamiliar name, Light felt his mind slow. His heart rate fell, and he was able to pull himself from the dream and focus on Ryuzaki’s voice. 

_Akisada. Akisada. Akisada._

His hands dropped from his head, and his staggered breaths began to steady. The dream was still playing over and over in his mind, but he wasn’t panicking anymore. The pain in his neck faded, and the tingling in his hands stopped. 

Finally, after a few minutes, Light’s panic attack fully subsided. He brought a hand up to his face and was shocked to feel tears on his cheeks. He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. 

“Akisada, are you alright?” Ryuzaki asked, his voice much softer than it was the first time he’d asked. 

“Yeah, I’m better now,” Light murmured, rubbing his hands over his face. “Also you can call me Light again. Sorry, I know that was really weird. I’m not sure what came over me there.” 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Ryuzaki said, reaching up and pulling Light’s hands away from his face with his own. Without thinking about it, Light reached for Ryuzaki’s hand, his cold skin a balm for his frayed nerves. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” 

Instead of looking up at Ryuzaki, Light kept his eyes on his lap, staring at their hands. He rubbed his thumb over Ryuzaki’s knuckle, and realized that Ryuzaki’s skin almost felt like touching marble. Cold, smooth, and almost stone-like. 

“I just had a nightmare,” Light answered. “It disoriented me when I woke up.” 

“What was the nightmare about?” Ryuzaki asked. 

A part of Light didn’t want to tell Ryuzaki. He had a nightmare about having his blood sucked out? While Ryuzaki himself was dead on the ground next to him? God only knew what kind of Kira theory Ryuzaki could pull from that. 

But something inside of Light told him that it was okay. That he should tell Ryuzaki. 

If anything, he owed Ryuzaki an explanation for the whole ‘Akisada’ thing. 

“It… it was you and me,” Light began, his voice hoarse. “We were walking around some city. I’m not sure where it was, but it didn’t look like anywhere here in Tokyo. All the buildings were really old, and I think we were near the ocean.” 

“What were we doing?” Ryuzaki asked, his tone unreadable. 

“We were just… talking,” Light said, hoping Ryuzaki wouldn’t see the red in his cheeks in the dark. He wasn’t going to tell Ryuzaki _everything_ they did in the dream. “At one point though, we were attacked. You-” Light’s breath hitched at the memory. “You were on the ground, bleeding from your head. You might’ve been dead? And then the guy attacking us started…” Light trailed off, reluctant to tell Ryuzaki he had been attacked by what he guessed was a vampire in his dream. “Well, he killed me too. And then I woke up.” 

Ryuzaki gently squeezed Light’s hands. “How did he kill you?” 

Dammit. Why did he have to ask that? 

Grimacing, Light figured he might as well put it out on the table. “He bit my neck and started drinking my blood. Yes, I, an 18 year old guy, had a nightmare about a goddamn vampire killing me. It’s idiotic I know.” 

He went to yank his hands away from Ryuzaki’s, but L tightened his grip, not letting him go. 

“It’s not idiotic,” Ryuzaki told him, his voice softer than Light had ever heard it. “Dying in a dream is a horrible thing to wake up from.” 

Finally, Light got the courage to force his head up and meet Ryuzaki’s gaze. 

L was staring at him with more emotion on his face than Light had ever seen before. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his eyebrows were furrowed with worry. He looked… genuinely upset. 

“It just felt so real,” Light whispered, shuddering as he remembered the pain from the fangs biting his throat. 

Ryuzaki nodded, squeezing his hands again. “You’re not there anymore though.” 

“Yeah,” Light muttered, nodding his head. “I know that.” 

A few beats of silence passed, and Light ran his thumb over Ryuzaki’s knuckles again. He knew he should probably let go of Ryuzaki’s hands at this point, but he was still freaked out over the dream, and the coldness of Ryuzaki was one of the things anchoring him to reality right now. 

“Can I ask where the name Akisada came from?” Ryuzaki then asked after a few moments, the unreadable tone back again. 

“You called me that, in the dream,” Light explained, shrugging. “When I woke up I was just so disoriented that I wasn’t sure who I was.” 

“Dreams can be like that,” Ryuzaki said dismissively. With one more squeeze of Light’s hands, he let go, and pushed himself back to his own side of the bed. Light found that he immediately missed Ryuzaki’s closeness. “If you’re alright though, we should try to get back to sleep. We have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow.” 

Light wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to sleep again after that, but Ryuzaki was right. They had a lot of work to do tomorrow, so he should at least try. 

Settling back into bed, Light realized the panic attack had exhausted him. His eyelids were growing heavy, and somehow, he had no lingering anxiety from the dream. It was as if the panic attack had just sucked it all out of him. 

Luckily for him, it wasn’t long until he fell into a dreamless sleep.

♰⁜♰

It didn’t take long for Light to fall back asleep. 

His breathing was slow, and his heart rate was steady. When L turned over to look at him, he was relieved to find Light’s face relaxed, no hint of distress. 

What had just occurred had shaken L to his core. Light had had dreams before. In fact, it was a common thing that happened every time L and Light crossed paths. 

But his dreams were always vague. In his past lifetimes, he’d never been able to tell L the specifics of the scenes except that L was there, and it ended with Light himself dying. He had never remembered something as vividly as what Light had described to him tonight. 

The thing that really got him though was when Light had said the name Akisada. Not only did he remember it, but in his half-awake state he had asked L to _call him that_. When he whispered that, L had felt his entire body seize up. 

Light had never remembered one of his past lives' names before. Let alone the first. 

L wondered what was different this time. Was it because they had already spent more time together in this lifetime than any other before? Was it because they were being forced to spend every moment together, because of L’s own investigative decisions? 

There was an even greater question at hand here though. 

L couldn’t remove the cuffs yet. He knew Light was Kira, even if he didn’t remember being so right now. But if they stayed chained together for much longer, was Light going to remember more? Was it being near L that brought the dreams on? 

...would Light eventually figure out that these weren’t just unusually vivid dreams he was having, but that he was reliving memories? 

And if he did figure that out, what would happen after that? 

L would have no idea what to do in that scenario. If Light asked him that upfront, L couldn’t lie to him. But then where would they go from there? Light was still Kira. Like always, their relationship was bound to end up with Light in a jail cell. It was their eternal game at this point. 

L stared at Light’s sleeping face. The face he had memorized many centuries ago, analyzing the sharp points and angles he knew so well. 

Without thinking, L reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from Light’s forehead. 

“Murata Akisada… Yagami Light… No matter what name you have, I’m never going to be able to stop loving you,” L whispered. “I just wish it didn’t have to be this hard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay one thing I wanna clarify: I was originally hesitant to give a name to any of Light's past lives because I thought that would make it feel more like a separate character and not Light Yagami, so I just wanna clarify that scene of Light asking L to call him Akisada isn't meant to represent anything like Light becoming someone else. Akisada is still Light, it's just another name he had at one point
> 
> also fun fact I actually wrote that scene of Light waking up from the nightmare and asking L to call him by that name way back when I was writing like, chapter 2 or something and I wasn't sure if I was ever going to even put it in the fic, but I got so attached to it I threw it in there anyway :)
> 
> oh and yes L plays cool math games because I just thought it would be really fucking funny
> 
> anyway please please let me know what you thought of this chapter down in the comments! they really make my day <3


	6. familiarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light and L grow closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter: mention of suicide in one of Light's dream flashbacks
> 
> Am I procrastinating doing a quiz for ochem by finishing and posting this chapter? Yes I am but yknow what it's worth it
> 
> I think yall are really gonna like this chapter :)

The nightmares continued. 

At first, it was once every other week. Then it was once a week. Soon, L was being woken from his sleep every few nights to Light’s screaming. 

Light didn’t have any more extremely vivid recalls like when he remembered the name Akisada. But he still remembered the dreams with more detail than L ever recalled him remembering in the past. He was able to explain how he died in such specific detail, it left L reeling with flashbacks of his own. 

Along with this, L noticed that Light seemed to be remembering other things as well, and not just when waking up from nightmares. It was nothing major—nothing Light himself even seemed to consciously notice. But one day, when L was actually putting a bit of effort into helping Light go through some files (he was still frustrated and was more intrigued with focusing on Light for the time being instead of actually working to solve the case), Matsuda had stood up to announce he wanted fast food and was going to head out to get food for everyone. 

When he came back about half an hour later, Matsuda passed the burgers around. 

“Oh, Matsuda, did you get one without the tomato like I asked?” Light asked him. 

“Yup! Here ya go, Light!” Matuda replied, tossing a paper wrapped burger to him. 

Light caught the burger, and L turned to frown at him. “Since when do you not like tomatoes on a burger?” 

At this, Light just laughed and pushed the burger over to him. “No, it’s for you. I know you don’t like the texture of raw tomatoes, so I texted Matsuda to get one without tomatoes for you.” 

There were several beats of silence where L just stared at Light. Not just because it was an unexpected gesture of kindness—evidence that Light thought enough about him to go out of his way to ask Matsuda to order a burger without tomatoes for him even though he could very well just have taken the tomatoes off himself—but there was also another part of Light’s words that made L freeze. 

L told Light about his dislike for the texture of tomatoes back in 1960. The subject had never even come up in this lifetime because Watari had been providing almost all of their food, and he already knew of L’s dislike of the fruit. 

There was no way Light should’ve known that about him. But he said it with such ease and confidence, not even questioning where he’d gotten the information from, that L had to believe it was some kind of subconscious memory recall. 

L thanked Light for his thoughtfulness, but he had been quiet for the rest of the day. Because if Light was able to recall something L had told him in a past life, would he begin to remember more? 

This was so much harder than expected for L. On the one hand, the idea of Light finally beginning to remember things after centuries of forgetting was like a miracle to L. But also L had been alive long enough to know that things were rarely that simple, and this case was too complicated to allow something like that. 

Still, more than anything, L was curious to know just how far Light’s recall would go. He had never been around Light for this long in the past, and he recognized that he was presented with a rare opportunity. 

He could experiment. 

And so, L devised a plan. It was a small, minor thing. Harmless if nothing came of it, only some confusion from the others but nothing that would be too out of the ordinary for L to do. But if Light responded to it how L theorized he could… that would be very interesting indeed. 

Once again, it happened while they were working at their desk. L had a theory that Light being distracted allowed his subconscious to pull up these memories more easily. 

Light was sitting at his computer, digging through financial records for some large banking business based in Tokyo. L hadn’t been paying attention when the Task Force had gone over it this morning, he was too focused on his own personal theories. L had his own computer on in front of him, with the same files pulled up in front of him as Light, but he’d barely glanced at them. 

Watari came over with two cups of tea for him and Light. He set the sugar cubes down beside Light however, and not in front of L like he usually did. L had told him to do that over their private messaging, and of course Watari hadn’t asked why. 

Once Watari walked away, L glanced to Light, and cleared his throat. 

“Light, kan je me de suiker even aangeven?” L asked, the Dutch words like a familiar weight on his tongue. 

L watched Light carefully for a reaction. 

“Sure,” Light mumbled in reply, still staring at the screen as he pushed the sugar over to L’s side of the desk. 

There was a moment of silence, and L could feel the weight of the other men’s eyes on the two of them. But L didn’t mind, because it was taking all of his concentration not to smile right now. As he suspected, his theory was correct. Some of Light’s subconscious recall included his fluency in Dutch. 

Then, 

“Whoa, Light, what did Ryuzaki just say to you?” Matsuda asked. 

Light blinked, turning away from the computer. “He just asked me to pass the sugar, why is that-” Light cut himself off, eyes widening. “Wait, you didn’t ask me that in Japanese,” Light then said, frowning at L. 

L shrugged, plopping a sugar cube into his tea. “No, I didn’t. It was Dutch. I was just curious to see if you knew it.” 

“I didn’t know you knew how to speak Dutch, Light!” Matsuda said, grinning at Light. 

“Oh, I wasn’t aware you’d picked up Dutch in addition to your Russian studies,” Soichiro commented, looking more focused on his computer than the conversation at hand. 

Light meanwhile was frowning, eyes darting between L and Matsuda. 

“I-I don’t know Dutch though. I’ve never studied it before,” Light stammered. 

“Well you certainly seemed to know what Ryuzaki said,” Aizawa chimed in. 

The frown on Light’s face deepened. “I don’t know how… I just didn’t think. I knew what he said.” 

Recognizing that things were starting to spiral into a more suspicious situation, L decided it was time to cut the conversation off. 

“I think I know what’s going on here,” L cut in. “The word suiker is rather similar to satou, Watari handed you the sugar cubes, and you were focused on your computer. You heard me say something that sounded like ‘sugar’, and your mind simply filled in the gaps for context so you pushed the sugar over to me. Cognates are very useful for situations like that.” 

Light pursed his lips, nodding at the explanation. “Alright, that makes sense,” he muttered, although L could tell he didn’t fully believe him. 

However, this seemed to satisfy the curiosity of the rest of the Task Force, who returned to their work without continuing the discussion. L was relieved for this, because the last thing he needed was for the men to push the subject too far, possibly ruining the chance for L to conduct similar experiments in the future. 

The rest of the day passed without issue, with no one bringing up the Dutch incident again. In fact, by the time the sun had set, L was certain most of the Task Force had even forgotten what had occurred. They all chatted amicably as they packed up their things, ready to head home after a long day of even more futile work. 

Although Light hadn’t forgotten. While he had resumed working just as he had been before the incident occurred, there was a slight crease in between his brows that wouldn’t go away even when he was taking a break. It was a sign he was thinking. Even if he looked as if he was focused on stock reports from the past few months, he was turning the incident over in his head. L was sure Light was trying to rationalize it with himself, thinking over the explanation L provided in his head and justifying why it was the only thing that made sense, all while trying to ignore the gnawing sensation that there was something more to what had happened. 

It wasn’t unusual for Light to work late, even after the other members of the Task Force had left. Especially with his latest lead into this banking company, he had been spending many hours after night had fallen pouring over all kinds of documents to the point where L was reconsidering joining the case once more, because what _if_ Light had found something about the newest Kira? 

But tonight was different. As soon as the others left headquarters, Light shut his computer down and was on his feet. L didn’t argue, it wasn’t as if he had anything else to do anyway. So L pushed himself out of his chair and followed Light to the elevator. Dinner was a nonissue, because the two of them usually ate in their shared room anyway, so Watari would send it up when it was prepared. 

The entire elevator ride to their floor, Light was silent. His gaze stayed strictly on his feet, but L could hear the gears turning in his head. 

Then, they reached their room. Light entered first, the chain clinking between them, and L let it shut behind him. Light took off his shoes, while L was already barefoot, and Light beelined straight for the bed. 

L hadn’t even gotten a chance to sit down beside him on the bed when the question came. 

“What the hell was that?” Light asked. 

L blinked. “What do you mean?” He asked, feigning ignorance. 

“You know what I mean,” Light said with a frown. “The whole thing with speaking to me in Dutch. Why would you think I know Dutch?” 

Stomach rumbling, L decided he needed a drink for this, and moved towards the mini fridge. 

“I’m not sure. I know you’re fluent in Japanese and English, and you’re rather proficient in Russian as well. I was curious if you’d taken an interest in other languages, and I just happen to be fluent in Dutch,” L explained, taking a bottle of ‘wine’ out of the fridge and setting it on the desk. “Before you ask, no, I don’t have any theories that Kira might know Dutch.” 

Light frowned. “How many languages do you know then?” 

Taking a wine glass out from the cabinet beside the mini fridge, L poured himself a large amount of the red liquid. Picking up the glass, he sniffed in and took a sip, before looking back to Light. 

“Do you want some?” He asked, holding the glass out to Light. 

Light immediately shook his head. “No thanks, the legal drinking age in Japan is 20, and I’m still 18,” he responded. 

L could’ve laughed. Of course Light couldn’t have any of this considering it wasn’t actually wine, but L knew that Light—when he didn’t have the memories of being a mass murderer—didn’t enjoy the idea of breaking the law in any regard, even with something as innocuous as having some wine. 

“Suit yourself,” L shrugged, taking another sip of the drink. “In answer to your question, I know quite a few languages. I’m fluent in English, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, Dutch, Afrikaans, French, German, Russian, and both Egyptian and Syrian Arabic, though I’m proficient in several others as well.” 

Light raised an eyebrow. “You know all those languages, and for some reason decided that of all of those, I might just happen to know Dutch?” 

Hm. That was a good point. 

“For all you know I could’ve been planning to test you with all the languages I know,” L shrugged. 

He thought Light might crack a smile at that, but instead he scowled. 

“What the hell is your game here?” He challenged, his voice rising. 

Oh. L didn’t predict this. 

“What do you mean, Light?” L asked, genuinely confused by this reaction. 

“I mean how did you know?” Light was pushing off the bed, stepping over to L so they were face to face. 

“How did I know…” L trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. 

His heart was pounding. Had Light remembered something else? Had he pushed it too far? What if Light had figured it out? What the hell did that mean for them then? 

“I’ve heard you speak another language in a few of my dreams, and I wasn’t able to recognize it till today. It was Dutch. How did you know about that?” His voice was starting to waver. “Is this some kind of fucked up experiment? Some hypnotic suggestion thing to give me these horrible dreams about being executed and scare me into confessing that I’m Kira?!” Light was shouting at him now, and L could see that while he was certainly angry, he was also afraid. Afraid of his nightmares? Or afraid of L? He wasn’t sure. 

No. No this wasn’t what L wanted him to think at all. Shit. He had gone too far. L knew this would be a risk, but he hadn’t realized Light would’ve remembered something as specific as him speaking Dutch in a dream. 

“Light, don’t think that,” L began, his voice coming out much quieter than he meant it to. “That’s- no, that’s not what’s happening at all. I don’t even know how I would _give_ you these nightmares. And besides that, while my morals are certainly on the questionable side, even I would admit that psychological torture through manipulating dreams is going too far.” 

Light blinked, some of the anger fading from his eyes. 

“I was genuinely just curious if you knew any Dutch.” Not a complete lie. “I’m so sorry this brought up bad memories for you though. I know these dreams have been causing you a lot of distress, and I should’ve been more sensitive to messing around like that. I’m genuinely sorry for that.” That part was true. He hadn’t even considered that him trying to get Light to remember speaking Dutch could bring back more of the painful memories that were tormenting him when he slept. 

There was a moment of silence, Light staring at him, searching L’s face for any sign of deceit. Then, he sighed, and his shoulders sagged. 

“I’m sorry, Ryuzaki. Those were… ridiculous accusations.” Light shook his head and stepped back, sitting down on the edge of the bed once more. “I’m running on less sleep than usual. There’s no way you could’ve known that about my dreams. I’m sorry I got so upset.” 

Moving over to the bed, L gingerly sat down beside Light, careful to leave room between them. 

“You don’t need to apologize. Those dreams seem truly horrible to deal with, so I can only imagine the kind of mental exhaustion you’re dealing with,” L said in a low voice. 

Light sighed again. “Yeah, it’s not easy,” he muttered. Then, he glanced back up at L. “I just… I’m so paranoid all the time. I feel like everyone is watching me, waiting for me to make some slip up and reveal I’ve secretly been Kira the whole time. Like if I say one wrong thing or fail one of your tests I’ll get… you know.” 

L did know. He remembered the pure, unbridled terror in Light’s eyes when Soichiro was pretending to shoot him. How terrified he was of death. 

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve certainly contributed more than my fair share to that burden on you,” L replied, staring at his lap. 

“It’s okay. You’re just doing your job. If I was in your position, I’d be suspicious of me too,” Light admitted. “It’s just…” he hesitated, wringing his hands in front of him. “I’m starting to think you’re right, Ryuzaki. That I was Kira at some point, but I forgot it. But I know myself, and I know that if I were Kira, I’d arrange to have the power returned to me at some point or another.” His voice was small, and he still hadn’t looked up from his lap. 

“That’s what I’ve suspected as well,” L said. 

Light winced, and L noticed he was digging his fingernails into his palms now. 

“Ryuzaki, I don’t want that to be true. I don’t want to be Kira, because if I’m Kira that means I’m not the person I thought I was.” This last part came out in a whisper, as if he was ashamed to admit this doubt he had in himself. 

Before he could think about what he was doing, L reached forward and uncurled Light’s hand from the tight fist it was in. 

“Light,” L began softly, lacing their fingers together. “You think that if you were Kira at some point in the past, that means you’re a bad person. That you’ve always thought of yourself as the good guy, but you’re actually the villain.” He paused, squeezing Light’s hand. “But the thing is, you’re the only person who can decide who you are. Whether or not you were Kira is irrelevant, what matters is who you decide to be after you find that out.” 

There was a beat of silence. Light stared straight ahead at the wall, while L rubbed his thumb along the back of Light’s hand. 

“Thank you, Ryuzaki,” Light whispered. He turned his gaze to stare at their interlaced fingers, and a small smile quirked at the corners of his lips. “That means more than you realize.” 

Not long after that, Watari brought up their dinners, and the heavy conversation moved on. Light ended up asking L about all the languages he spoke, and why he had decided to learn each of them, which led to some creative explanations on his part. Later, they ended up switching between the languages they knew, with L doing what he could to give Light tips for speaking Russian. It was so similar to four centuries earlier, when L practiced Japanese with Akisada, and Akisada would practice English and Dutch with him. 

That night, L wasn’t woken by Light screaming. But he was awoken by something unusual. 

Dawn was only just beginning to peak over the horizon, tinting the sheer curtains in shades of pink and orange. L felt something shift beside him, stirring him into consciousness. There was a warmth pressed against him, something solid and unmoving. 

Bleary eyes blinked open, and L’s breath caught in his throat. 

Somehow, in the middle of the night, L’s arm had draped over Light’s waist. Along with that, Light had shifted so close to L in his sleep, his head was practically tucked under L’s chin. He had the front of L’s shirt gripped in his hand, and his breathing was as steady as could be. 

L knew he should’ve pulled away. He knew the logical thing to do was to shift back without waking Light, and turn over onto his other side so the situation couldn’t happen again. 

But it had been so long since he had been this close to Light. The warmth, the pattern of his breathing, the curve of his waist under L’s arm… it was so achingly familiar. L hadn’t even realized how much he had missed it until this very moment. 

So despite his better judgement, L’s heavy eyelids fell shut once more. He told himself he was going to move away in a few minutes, but for now he was just resting his eyes. 

L knew he was lying to himself though, and drifted back to sleep with ease.

♰⁜♰

Light was pressed up against something cool.

It wasn’t cold in the unpleasant way, like something that would make him shiver. Rather, it was something that contrasted nicely against the heat of the blankets over top of him. It provided a balance. 

This was what he could tell, with his limited scope of consciousness. He was in that blurry place between sleep and wake, and while Light didn’t know where this coolness was coming from, he wasn’t going to question it. So he pressed closer, but when he felt the solid mass shift against him, the switch flipped in his mind and he was suddenly _very_ awake. 

Opening his eyes, Light’s fears were confirmed. He was currently pressed up against Ryuzaki. 

Light wasn’t sure how this had happened. He must’ve moved over in his sleep. Maybe a subconscious thing because of the dreams he’d been having? Light really wasn’t sure. 

His hand was gripping Ryuzaki’s shirt, right above where his heart was. With how close he was to Ryuzaki’s chest, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he could hear Ryuzaki’s heartbeat (although he didn’t). 

He could feel Ryuzaki breathing soundly beside him. Soft breaths in and out, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest steady enough to set a metronome to. It was familiar in a way Light couldn’t put into words. There was something about being this close to Ryuzaki—hearing his calm breathing, feeling his cool hands resting on his waist gave—it gave Light deja vu. 

His heart pounded in his chest. Being this close to Ryuzaki was making it difficult to think. Everything about him, from his soft puffs of breath, to the cool touch of his skin, even his scent—it was intoxicating in a way Light had never experienced before. And more than anything, lying like this just felt _right_. Like a puzzle piece Light hadn’t known was missing was falling into place. 

But he couldn’t stay like this. Even though the illogical part of his mind kept screaming at him to stay, Light forced himself to let go of Ryuzaki’s shirt. Then, as slowly as he could, he lifted Ryuzaki’s arm from his waist, and tried to shift back to his own side of the bed. 

Then, 

“Good morning, Light.” 

Ryuzaki’s voice was softer than it usually was, his owlish eyes wide open and staring at Light, who was now frozen in the space between Ryuzaki’s pillow and his own. Immediately heat rose to Light’s cheeks, realizing he had been caught. 

“Morning, Ryuzaki,” Light said stiffly. “It seems like I moved over to your side of the bed in my sleep. Sorry about that.” 

Light wasn’t sure what reaction he expected from Ryuzaki. For him to get upset at Light for invading his personal space? For him to act awkward about it, reassuring Light that it was fine although it obviously bothered him? Or did Light want him to look upset that he had moved away so quickly? 

He wasn’t sure, but Ryuzaki didn’t give him any of those reactions. Instead, he stared at Light for a moment, his expression completely unreadable as usual. Then, he sat up and looked away. 

“It’s fine,” he said, the chain clinking as L pushed to his feet. “Though I believe we’ve woken a bit later than usual, so I recommend you get dressed quickly so we can head downstairs.” 

And just like that, they were back to business as usual. A part of Light was relieved. The last thing he wanted was for that to become a whole Thing. 

But a smaller part of him was disappointed. But he didn’t want to admit that to himself. 

The rest of the day passed on as normal, and that night Ryuzaki showed no signs of discomfort or awkwardness as they got ready to sleep. Of course though, Light awoke the next morning to the same situation, pressed against Ryuzaki with their legs tangled together. This time, Light was able to extricate himself without waking Ryuzaki, but then he was faced with that same painful disappointment once more. 

Somehow, this just became a normal part of their routine. Light would wake up nearly every morning wrapped around Ryuzaki, and would have to figure out how to pull away without waking the man. Sometimes his attempts would fail, and he’d have to awkwardly shrug to Ryuzaki in apology. Most of the time though, Ryuzaki would stay asleep, and Light would be left to contemplate the empty feeling in his chest while watching the sun rise through the curtains. 

Things weren’t helped by the fact that Light also continued to have his dreams. While he hadn’t had a nightmare since before the whole ‘Dutch speaking’ incident occurred, Light still found himself having vivid dreams involving both him and Ryuzaki. They always seemed to be happening in different time periods, and Ryuzaki would always address him by a different name than Light. Most of the time he couldn’t remember these names when he woke up, but Akisada was the one he never forgot. 

Unlike the nightmares though, these dreams weren’t bad. In fact, they weren’t even the slightest bit unpleasant. Usually it was just him and Ryuzaki spending time together—chatting, drinking, eating—normal things that friends did. On rarer occasions, the two of them would be doing much less _casual_ things. Waking from these dreams usually left an ache in Light’s chest, and he had to tell himself ten times over that he didn’t have feelings for Ryuzaki. His subconscious was just dealing with Ryuzaki’s suspicion of him in… interesting ways. 

Sooner or later though, Light knew the nightmares would come back. 

And they did. 

_He didn’t have much time._

_The police were on their way. Katsu had pounded on his door, sweating and out of breath, telling him that they’d been turned in. The police had already gotten Mioji, and Katsu was planning on trying to get on a train before they caught up to him._

_Meanwhile, he didn’t see the point in running. What was he going to do? Live on the run for the rest of his life? He supposed he could try to get out of Japan, maybe escape to Hawai’i. He’d heard there were still plenty of ships setting off—people searching for jobs to work on the Hawai’ian sugar cane farms. But he already knew he didn’t want that. He had a purpose in what he had been doing, he had been trying to help his country. He wasn’t going to abandon it._

_So that part of the decision was easy. The hard part was trying to reconcile what had gone wrong._

_The plan had been perfect. He’d thought of every possible thing that could slip them up, tip the police off about what they had been planning to do. There was no way the police could’ve figured it out on their own. Which left only one possibility._

_L. The man he had found himself enamored with ever since his arrival in his city. The man with the wide dark eyes, horrible posture, and a voice that sparked a kind of recognition in him that went down to his bones (with a whisper that sent shivers down his spine). He had only known L for a few weeks, but somehow, L had become one of the most important people in his life. L was the only person he had ever met that understood him. Which is exactly why L had been able to deduce his plan._

_It didn’t feel like any kind of betrayal. L was just doing his job._

_His only regret was that he had a strange feeling that L was going to blame himself for what happened next. But this was his own choice. He wasn’t going to rot in a jail cell for the next twenty years._

_His father’s gun—passed down to him. It was still as shiny as the day it’d been given to him, as he had never found an occasion to use it. There was shouting coming from outside, and he knew his time was running out._

_He loaded up the revolver with shaking hands. The cool metal soothed his nerves somewhat, but it also made him think of L’s cool hands against his own skin, and the reminder made his chest ache._

_Behind him, the door to his room burst open. He turned around calmly, holding the gun to the side of his head. The cold metal against the skin of his temple wasn’t as comforting as it had been in his hands._

_He had been expecting the police to be standing behind him. Instead, his heart leapt up into his throat when he locked eyes with L._

_“No…” L whispered, staring at him._

_“I’m sorry, L.” His voice was shakier than he had meant it to be, but he hadn’t expected to see L here. He didn’t want him to witness this._

_“No, please, Seiji don’t do this,” L pleaded. “We can work out something. Negotiate deals. I can help you.”_

_There was more shouting from outside, and he could hear the policeman kick in the front door downstairs. They only had a few seconds._

_“Don’t treat me like an idiot, L. Please,” he said, his voice a bit steadier now. “I wasn’t going to get a full life whether my plan worked or not. Like this at least I can end things on my own terms.”_

_L pursed his lips. “I… I understand,” he said. “I’m so sorry things turned out like this.”_

_“You don’t need to apologize. You were just doing your job,” he reassured L. “I’m sorry that you have to witness this.”_

_A defeated look flashed across L’s face. He nodded._

_“I’ll see you in the next life, Seiji.”_

_Clenching his jaw, he pulled the trigger right as police burst into the room._

Light bolted upright in bed, hand flying up to the side of his head. Pain was radiating across his temple, heat flashing down his entire body. The gunshot echoed in his ears, the only other noise he could hear being the rapid beating of his own heart. 

It was a familiar routine at this point. But it never got any easier. 

“Light?” He was just barely able to make out the sound of Ryuzaki’s voice over the blood rushing in his ears. 

“N-Nightmare,” he choked out, struggling to breathe as he twisted his fingers into his hair. 

The gunshot. He could still feel it. Hot and burning as it ripped its way through his skull. And then L’s face. The sadness as he accepted what Light was about to do. The grief scarring deep lines into his face. Such an unusually deep display of an emotion for him. 

His head hurt. His chest ached. His lungs burnt. 

Suddenly, there was a cool hand resting on his shoulder. Light whipped his head up, and in the shadowy room, he could just barely make out Ryuzaki’s face. But even with the low lighting, he could see it. The bone-deep grief that he had seen right before he’d shot himself. 

Light wasn’t sure why he did it. But next thing he knew, he was surging forward to wrap his arms around Ryuzaki, guilt crashing over him as the dream replayed over and over again in his head. 

“I’m sorry,” Light whispered, the apology ripped from his lips without his own permission. He knew Ryuzaki wouldn’t understand. But he _needed_ to apologize. The guilt was suffocating him. “I’m so sorry.” 

For a moment, Ryuzaki was as stiff as a block of ice. But then, as if the ice was thawing, Ryuzaki lifted his arms and wrapped them around Light’s waist, and pulled him close. 

“It’s okay,” Ryuzaki said, his voice so low, Light thought he might be imagining it. “You don’t need to apologize.” 

But he _did_. His heart was still racing, and the gunshot still rang in his ears. It was so fresh in his mind, he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of him. 

“I-I should’ve listened to you,” Light stammered, thoughts still racing too fast for him to make sense of them. “I could’ve plead, or I could’ve run. You didn’t deserve to see that.” 

Stiffening, Ryuzaki sucked in a sharp breath, and suddenly his grip around Light tightened. He didn’t say anything, but cold fingers started running through his hair, and Light felt his body relax. 

“It’s okay,” Ryuzaki reassured him again. 

Then, with a near painful slowness, Light felt Ryuzaki press a kiss into his hair. 

They didn’t move from their positions for several minutes. Ryuzaki continued to run his fingers through Light’s hair, and Light’s breathing began to slow. With his calming heart and thoughts, his sense of logic seeped back into him. Gradually, the full realization of what had just occurred hit him. 

Light’s brain was screaming at him to pull away. To apologize for his erratic behavior, explain the dream, and hope everything with Ryuzaki wasn’t ruined. 

But Ryuzaki was still hugging him. Ryuzaki was still playing with Light’s hair, and he had kissed his head only minutes before. 

Light was tired. The panic attack had left him exhausted, and he didn’t want to think anymore. Ryuzaki was anchoring him right now, and he didn’t want to let go. 

So he didn’t. Instead of pulling back, Light just looked up from where his head was buried in Ryuzaki’s shoulder. Their faces were only a few inches apart, and Light made no attempt to move away. 

“I’m sorry about that, bad dream again,” he whispered. 

Ryuzaki’s hand dropped from where it had been in Light’s hair, but instead of moving it away, he rested it on Light’s shoulder blades. 

“What were you apologizing to me for earlier?” Ryuzaki asked softly. The hand on Light’s shoulder blade began to trace small circles into his skin, and Light’s heart jumped. 

“I killed myself in the dream, and you were there. I just felt… so guilty for making you see that,” Light admitted, lowering his eyes. “Police were coming to arrest me for something, but I’m not sure what it was. I didn’t want to go to jail, so I shot myself.” He paused, the logical part of his brain still awake enough to yell at him that this wasn’t going to help his Kira percentage. He let out a bitter laugh. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. I’m a Kira suspect.” 

There was a moment of silence from Ryuzaki. He looked conflicted. 

Then, 

“I don’t want to talk about Kira right now.” 

Although that was decidedly _not_ a very L thing to say, and something Light would no doubt analyze ten times over tomorrow morning, right now that was exactly what Light wanted to hear. 

“Me neither,” Light whispered back. 

There it was. The hint of a smile on Ryuzaki’s lips. 

“Then let’s go to sleep.” 

Before Light could panic about getting back to his side of the bed, L leaned back onto his pillow, keeping his arms around Light to pull him down with him. Reaffirming his decision to stop thinking right now, Light let it happen.

Once settled, they both readjusted to get comfortable. In the end, Ryuzaki’s face had somehow ended up in the crook of Light’s neck, Light had an arm thrown over Ryuzaki’s shoulders, and Ryuzaki had an arm stretched across Light’s chest. Absently, Light found himself tracing patterns into Ryuzaki’s back. 

The feeling of rightness returned to Light. This was how it was supposed to be. 

Light sunk deeper and deeper into sleep, and right before he was completely lost to the void of unconsciousness, one last thought appeared in his mind. 

_I’ve missed this._

The next morning, when Light awoke, he and Ryuzaki were still holding each other. Once again, Light didn’t want to move away. So this time, he didn’t. And when Ryuzaki woke up, he didn’t move away either. 

It was the best morning Light had had in a very long time.

♰⁜♰

They didn’t openly discuss the Seiji dream, or what had happened between them that night. Instead, things just… changed between them.

Light no longer pulled away from Ryuzaki in the mornings. If Light had a nightmare, Ryuzaki would hold Light until he calmed down, occasionally pressing kisses into his hair. Light would sometimes trace patterns into Ryuzaki’s skin. 

They never talked about these things. They just happened. 

L wasn’t going to try to stop it. He was in too deep already. He might as well enjoy it while he had it. 

A few days after the Seiji dream, Light and L were up in their shared room after another long day of work. Light had finally identified Yotsuba as the sole company benefiting from all the mysterious business related killings Kira had been doing, and the working theory was that Kira was possibly an employee of Yotsuba. It had been a long day of work, and L had finally put himself back into the case, so they were both exhausted. 

Watari had already brought them dinner, which they’d eaten while chatting about theories regarding Yotsuba. At some point, Light had turned on the radio in the room for a bit of background music while they ate. Now the conversation had quieted down, and the two were just listening to the music, letting conversation ebb and flow. 

It was strangely nice. 

Then, the song they were listening to ended, and another one turned on in its place. L froze as soon as he heard the deep tones of the beginning trumpets. When the singer’s rich voice began to croon out the French lyrics, L almost smiled. It had been ages since he’d heard this. 

Beside him, Light noticed the relaxed look on his face. 

“You like this song?” Light asked. 

“I do. I haven’t heard it in a long time,” L responded. 

Light smiled, and looked at his lap. “You know, I, uh, had a dream recently with this song in it.” He paused, wringing his hands in his lap. “We danced to it. You and me.” 

The memory hit L immediately. 

1960\. L had been nearing the end of his investigation, but Light had come to visit him in his hotel room. They’d sat on the bed, listening to the radio when that song had come on. Light had stood up, and asked L to dance. 

That had been the last time L had spent time with Light alone before he got arrested. 

And now, just like in 1960, Light was standing up from the bed, and holding a hand out to L. 

“Dance with me,” he asked. 

“Alright,” L replied, taking the offered hand. 

It was instinctual. L’s arms draped over Light’s shoulders, and Light’s hands came to rest on L’s waist. They began to sway from side to side, and although L hadn’t danced with someone in fifty something years, it all fell back into place so easily. 

“So you dreamed about this?” L asked after a few moments of swaying. “Was it a nightmare?” 

“No, it wasn’t a nightmare. It was a good dream,” Light answered quietly. 

“It’s good to know I don’t only appear in your dreams when you’re dying,” L joked. 

Light was silent for a moment, a range of emotions flickering across his face. He was considering something. 

“I… I don’t know what these dreams are,” he whispered. “They feel so real, and sometimes they’re terrifying, but sometimes they’re just like this. They’re really nice.” 

“They seem to involve me more often than not,” L said, unsure of where Light was going with this. He was getting so close to the truth, and L had no idea what he would do if Light were to figure out the truth behind his dreams. 

“Yeah, they do,” Light replied, a soft smile on his face. 

L’s heartbeat was starting to speed up, because he remembered what their dance in 1960 had led to. He wondered if Light remembered it as well. 

“What else happened in your dream? Was it just dancing?” L asked. 

Red bloomed across Light’s cheeks. 

“Not exactly,” he replied, not looking at L’s face. 

And it was there that L made his decision. Just like always, they were doomed to repeat this same failed love story. While L could try to resist, he was always going to be drawn to Light, and Light was always going to be drawn to him. It was their eternal dance, and L wasn’t going to bother pretending he wasn’t following the steps like he had done so many times before. 

Light was a mass murderer. But right now, he didn’t remember any of that. For this moment in time, he was just L’s first friend. He had the same kind and just heart that L had met in 1655. 

“Show me what happens next,” L whispered. 

Eyes widening, Light stared at L for a moment in shock. The music had ended at this point, but neither of them noticed. It didn’t matter. They were still dancing. 

Then, Light leaned forward and kissed L, and it was like coming home. 

It didn’t matter if Light was a murderer, if his definition of justice became more and more twisted with every new life he was thrown into, if he became less recognizable to L every time he met him. Right now, this kiss felt exactly like it had over 400 years ago, and that was all that mattered. 

They stopped swaying. Light’s fingers tangled in L’s hair, and L traced circles into the back of Light’s neck. It was warm, it was familiar, and the world around them fell away. L’s missing puzzle piece returned, and for the briefest of moments, he felt whole again. 

After a while, one of them pulled away, and L wasn’t sure which. But they stayed close, with Light resting his forehead against L’s. 

“Seems like it was a pretty damn good dream then,” L commented, smirking at Light. 

Light laughed, and it was the first genuine laugh L had heard from him in a long time. 

“Yeah, it really was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Light and L dance to is Non, je ne regrette rien by Edith Piaf! The song was released in 1960 and while I'm not sure if a French song would've played on a Japanese radio station, we're just gonna say it did because it was an incredibly popular song internationally. (Also though, another song I imagined them dancing to that didn't make sense time-wise but I still loved is O Children by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds so if you want another song to listen to go check that one out) 
> 
> also god lemme tell you finding sources for Japanese boy names there were popular during the Meiji Era is not as easy as it sounds so be proud of me for all the weirdly intense effort I put into very short flashbacks like Light's dream sdlkjflkd
> 
> oh and something I wanna clarify, Light thinking _I missed this_ is not him consciously remembering his past lives really, it's more like when you're falling asleep and random thoughts pop into your head that you don't really control at all. Essentially Light didn't consciously think that, the thought just popped into his head from the subconscious part of his brain that does remember the past lives and that keeps giving him the dream memories
> 
> and another random thing! L is not only a genius, but in this au he's an immortal so I'm headcanoning that he just knows a shit ton of languages because when you're a genius that's over 400 years old you're definitely going to pick up a lot of languages. Some of the other languages I hc that he's proficient in but didn't mention are Malay, Spanish, Italian, Norwegian, and Croatian just bc I love polyglot immortals
> 
> (one last thing: when L is talking about suiker vs satou, satou means sugar in Japanese) 
> 
> sldkfj okay that's enough rambling I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and that we finally got some romance again ;) Please leave a comment if you liked it! They make me so happy guys 
> 
> **EDIT 01/27:** I know this chapter has already been up for a few days now so idk how many of yall will see this but if you do I have a question! with the way my outline for this is written, next chapter is set to be the last real plot chapter, and there will be an epilogue chapter after. however, I don't want it to feel like we're rushing too close to the end and the outline for the chapter is pretty long, so I could split it and add some padding scenes so we get two more plot chapters before the epilogue instead. however they might be a bit shorter than the usual chapters. what do you think? do you want the next chapter to be the essential end of the story before the epilogue, or do you want to hold off on the end for a bit by having me split it into two shorter chapters instead?


	7. checkmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their investigation of Yotsuba finally leads to answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry I disappeared for so long, I got really busy with uni stuff and also finishing a big bang for another fandom I'm in. But I'm finally back! 
> 
> I wanted to thank you all so much for all the love you give me on these chapters. I don't know if I would've kept going if it wasn't for your love and support. I believe this will be the second to last chapter, so make sure to keep an eye out for whenever I finish the last one! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy, you're absolutely going to hate me by the end of this one lol

_It was dark._

_He wasn’t sure where he was. Cold metal bit into his wrists, while tough leather held his ankles down. There was something hard and metal covering his eyes, and no matter how he struggled, he couldn’t seem to loosen any of his restraints._

_“What’s going on?” He called out, his voice hoarse. “Where am I?”_

_There was no response. He began to panic, his heart racing in his chest as he tried to get out of the binds tying him to what he was guessing was some kind of metal table. The handcuffs he was wearing cut into his skin as he continued to struggle, and he could feel blood dripping down his hands as he continued to fight._

_“Please!” He shouted. “Someone help me!”_

_Suddenly, he heard footsteps. Stilling in his struggles, his breathing quickened as he heard someone approach. Their footsteps were soft, and their breathing was even. He tried to see if he could get a glimpse out from under the metal blindfold, but it was a pointless effort._

_“Light Yagami,” a voice then spoke._

_Light froze. He’d recognize that voice anywhere._

_“Ryuzaki?” He asked, hating how small his own voice sounded in comparison. “What’s going on?”_

_“You’ve been detained. We’ve found sufficient evidence that you are, indeed, Kira.”_

_Over the past few months, Light had gotten skilled at reading Ryuzaki’s voice. To most people, Ryuzaki sounded completely monotone almost all the time. However, Light could tell the small jumps and dips in his voice, tells that no one else was able to pick up on, the tiniest of cues that told Light what Ryuzaki was thinking or feeling in any given moment._

_This was different though. Right now, Ryuzaki’s voice was completely flat. No familiarity. No sense of any kind of emotion towards him._

_“Wh- how?! I’m not Kira, I’ve told you that!” Light demanded, heart rate rising._

_“You don’t need to know how. You’ve been found guilty by dozens of different countries, and they’ve all ordered the same punishment for you.” Ryuzaki paused, and Light’s breathing hitched as he begged Ryuzaki not to say what he knew he was going to say._

_“Execution,” Light whispered._

_“Yes. That’s why you are here.”_

_A burning sensation started to crawl up Light’s throat, and it took him a moment to realize it was because he wanted to cry. He was going to die, chained to a cold table, unable to even see what was around him._

_And Ryuzaki—his Ryuzaki—was going to be the one giving the order._

_He hated that he couldn’t see Ryuzaki right now. At least if he could see Ryuzaki, he’d be able to read his face, since he couldn’t read his voice._

_It was pathetic, but Light felt like Ryuzaki was treating him the way he’d treat a stranger. And it hurt._

_“Why am I blindfolded?” Light asked, his voice hoarse._

_“While we are fairly certain only the Second Kira has the ability to kill someone just by looking at their face, we don’t know for sure that you haven’t gained that ability since the last time you were actively acting as Kira. Therefore, we have to take this precaution.”_

_Light forced himself to try and nod. Fighting with Ryuzaki wasn’t going to get him anywhere._

_“So that’s it? I’ve already been found guilty and I’m just going to be killed, right here right now?” He asked, hating the way his voice broke towards the end._

_“Yes. The lethal injection is ready to go at a moment’s notice.”_

_Light clenched his jaw. “Does my family know?”_

_“Your father knows. Your mother and sister will be told you were killed in an accident. We don’t want the world to find out the identity of Kira, lest you become a martyr,” Ryuzaki explained. “That would be very inconvenient for us to deal with.”_

_He was so cold. So detached. It was nothing like the Ryuzaki Light had come to know the past few months. If he wasn’t positive this was Ryuzaki’s voice, he would think he was talking to a complete stranger._

_“Ryuzaki,” Light said after a moment, hating how it almost sounded like a sob. “Why are you being like this?”_

_“Being like what?” Ryuzaki asked._

_“I… I don’t know. You just sound so detached.” It was pathetic for him to be whining like this on his deathbed, but Light didn’t really care right now._

_“This is my job, Light. I’m always detached from my cases.”_

_They never shared anything. That was what he was telling Light. It was all for the case._

_“I understand,” Light said softly, a fierce ache spreading in his chest._

_“If you’re ready, we will begin the injection.”_

_Swallowing down his fear, Light nodded. “Okay.”_

_There was a stinging in his arm, and Light’s heart was pounding so loudly in his ears, he couldn’t hear himself think. He wanted to scream. He wanted to beg them to let him go. But he could already feel his consciousness fading._

_Suddenly, there was a cold hand on his face, but it was comforting all the same. It wiped away a tear he hadn’t even noticed that had slipped down his cheek._

_“I’m sorry, Light,” Ryuzaki whispered._

_And then, Light was lost._

Unlike most of his nightmares, this time, Light didn’t wake up screaming or in the midst of a panic. Instead, his eyes fluttered open, and he felt wet tracks down his cheeks. He’d been crying in his sleep, it seemed. 

Sitting up, Light buried his face in his hands, trying to wipe away the evidence of the dream. Suddenly, there was a shifting in the bed beside him, and Light felt Ryuzaki’s arms wind around his waist. 

“Another nightmare?” Ryuzaki asked softly, sounding nothing like the cold and detached Ryuzaki from his dream. 

“Um, yeah, kinda,” Light said, the dream playing over and over again in his mind. “It wasn’t like the others, I’d say.” 

“Oh?” That had gotten Ryuzaki’s interest. 

Light sighed. “If I tell you about it, it’ll just raise my Kira percentage.” 

Next to him, he felt Ryuzaki stiffen. There was a beat of silence, before Ryuzaki started tracing circles into Light’s back. 

“We don’t need to think about your Kira percentage right now,” Ryuzaki whispered. 

Pausing, Light looked down at his hands. In the dark room, he could just barely make out the outlines of his pale fingers. He rubbed at his wrists, the memory of the cold metal biting into his skin still making them sting. 

“I woke up in a room where I was blindfolded and strapped down. You explained to me that I had been arrested for being Kira, I’d already been found guilty by dozens of countries, and I had been sentenced to death.” Light took a shaky breath. “And then I was executed. I didn’t get to say goodbye to anyone. I didn’t even get to see anything, because you said the blindfold had to stay on.” 

The circles Ryuzaki was tracing in his back stopped, and Ryuzaki’s hands fell away from Light. 

“I… I can see why that would disturb you so much,” Ryuzaki said, looking away from Light. “I’m sorry you had a dream like that.” 

Light heard the unspoken apology in Ryuzaki’s words. There was no promise. No reassurance that Light’s dream wouldn’t become a reality. Just an apology. Because they both knew the truth. Ryuzaki still suspected Light of being Kira, and Light wasn’t even sure he believed in his own innocence anymore. 

That night, they fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed. When they awoke though, they had drifted together again. Light immediately knew he had a choice. He could pull away from Ryuzaki. He was eventually going to find some evidence damning Light, even if Light had no memories of being Kira. Light could stop himself from getting even more hurt when it happened. All he had to do was pull away. 

But he didn’t. Instead, Light let Ryuzaki run fingers through his hair. He took Ryuzaki’s free hand in his own, and pressed a kiss to his cold knuckles. Neither of them spoke, but Light knew Ryuzaki understood. 

The time they had left together was trickling away like sand in an hourglass. They needed to enjoy it while they could.

♰⁜♰

For so many months the investigation had stagnated, every finished day feeling hollow without any sense of achievement. Months of little to no progress had dampened the spirits of the Task Force. Then, suddenly, things picked up again, and it was like an amusement park ride going too fast for any of them to hold on.

First, Matsuda had taken it upon himself to break into Yotsuba, landing himself in the most precarious situation any of them had been in yet. The fact that Matsuda was still breathing was a miracle in itself. Then, only a few days later, ‘Eraldo Coil’ came into the fray, played by a very convincing Aiber. 

Not long after Light secured a mole in Namikawa, Light and L came to blows once again. Even though their private relationship had changed drastically over the past month, their working relationship wasn’t much different than before, lest the others in the Task Force notice their change in behavior towards each other. They bickered about the dangers of using Misa to infiltrate Yotsuba, until L went to Misa herself and convinced her to work with him. It was a dirty trick, and L could tell Light wanted to kick his ass for it. 

(Maybe that anger had resulted in a rather hateful makeout session later that night, but of course the rest of the Task Force didn’t know that). 

After that, Misa became the center of the investigation. She had to be trained, and then she was sent to her interview with Yotsuba for their ‘ad campaign’. According to Aiber and Mogi, the interview was a complete success. However, when Misa returned, there was something different about her. 

It wasn’t bad per se. She didn’t seem upset. But L and Light could both tell something was off. Usually, after a successful mission like this, it would’ve been impossible to drag Misa off of Light. This time though, when Light brushed off her advances claiming work, she just cheerfully said goodbye and headed back to her room. 

It didn’t take long for everyone to figure out why Misa had been acting off. The very next night she returned to Task Force headquarters, dressed in a sexy nurse outfit of all things, claiming that she had a recording of Higuchi admitting he was Kira. Somehow, she had gotten it in her head that Higuchi was the one most likely to be Kira, and she bluffed to him that she was the Second Kira so he would admit it. He fell right into her trap, and now they knew who to target. 

Everything came together so well, it was almost as if it were fate. As the evening progressed with Higuchi getting more and more frantic, there was a growing sense of dread inside of L. He wasn’t sure what it was, but as they followed Higuchi’s car via helicopter, L couldn’t help but feel that they were reaching the climax of the story. Even if it was the end of Higuchi’s story tonight, L had yet to have his confrontation with the real Kira. 

When they landed the helicopter, it was some of the tensest moments of L’s life as they tried to get Higuchi to admit how he killed. And although both of their gazes were fixated on the car, somehow, L’s hand had found Light’s, and they held onto each other as if it was the last time they’d be able to do so. 

“We did it, Ryuzaki,” Light whispered, a smile growing across his face as they watched Soichiro bring the notebook to the helicopter. “We caught him.” 

L wanted to smile. But as the notebook got closer and closer, the dread curling in the pit of his stomach only grew. Then, the door to the helicopter opened, and L took the notebook in his hands. 

In all his centuries of living, L had never seen a creature like the one he saw standing by Higuchi’s car. Extremely tall, hunched over, and covered in wrappings like a mummy, it was one of the strangest things L had ever seen. The creature stared at the police with a single yellow eye, not speaking, not attempting to attack. 

If L hadn’t been so distracted by the creature the notebook had revealed to him, maybe he could’ve stopped Light from reaching over. Maybe he could’ve pulled back, listened to his gut instinct that was yelling at him not to let Light touch the notebook. 

But he was distracted. And before he knew it, the notebook had left his hands, and Light was screaming. 

It wasn’t the scream of someone seeing a scary monster for the first time. It was the scream of someone who was overwhelmed. The scream of someone who didn’t understand what was happening to them. 

The screaming from Light only lasted a few seconds. But as soon as L turned to look at him, it only took one glance at his eyes for L to realize what had happened. 

The warmth L had always sought in those deep brown eyes of Light’s was gone. There was a sharpness, a cold, red glint to his gaze that L was all too familiar with. As soon as those piercing eyes met L’s own, his heart dropped into his stomach because he _knew_. 

In that moment, the Light that L had been handcuffed to, the Light L had held through nightmares, the Light that had let L press kisses into his hair, had died. Now L’s longtime nemesis had returned, and the game was back on. 

L barely listened to Light’s hobbled together explanation for why he screamed. All he could do was stare ahead, watching Higuchi cower by the police as the heaviness settled down on his shoulders once again. He knew it couldn’t last forever. It was only a matter of time. 

Higuchi screamed, clutching at his chest. L whipped his head towards Light, who was still holding onto the notebook. The notebook hadn’t been opened, but Higuchi had said the notebook was how he killed people. Somehow, Light had killed Higuchi while L was distracted. 

As Higuchi took his last breath, Light’s own shoulders dropped ever so slightly. The worry was gone. Higuchi was dead. Light had won. 

Once Higuchi was dead, Light gave up the notebook without any struggle. He acted completely normal as the police packed everything up, wheeling away Higuchi’s body while the Task Force worked out what to do from here. No one noticed anything amiss with Light—except for L. It didn’t matter what pretty words Light said, L knew what had happened the minute Light had touched that notebook. 

Later that evening, L was forced to remove the handcuffs from Light. Although he hadn’t slept in 400 years, the night felt far too long without Light by his side. He stared at the dark ceiling, going over the shift repeatedly in his mind. The moment that his Light had disappeared, snuffed out by Kira once again. 

Light’s goal was going to be to kill L now. He had an alibi. He wasn’t under any kind of suspicion now. His only obstacle was L himself. 

In all honesty, L had no idea if the notebook could harm him. Even if old age and sickness could never harm him, he wasn’t impervious to harm. If he got stabbed in the chest that would definitely do him in. And considering this notebook seemed to operate on literal magic, L wasn’t going to try and assume anything about how it worked. 

Maybe, just maybe, their game was coming to its permanent end. 

If it was, at least L could hope Light’s soul would finally be able to rest.

♰⁜♰

Light had won.

It had taken so much planning. It had taken the sacrifice of his own mind. It had taken nearly everything. 

But as soon as Light had touched the notebook and regained his memories, he’d known he won. 

All the pieces were perfectly set up. Misa was back to acting as the Second Kira under Light’s orders. Both Misa and Light had already been cleared of suspicion thanks to the 13 day rule. As soon as L realized the Second Kira was acting again, he was going to demand some way to test the 13 day rule, and Rem’s hand would be forced. 

The only two remaining problems in Light’s life would be gone. Rem would die, and she would take L with her. Misa and Light would be free of suspicion, and more likely than not, the Task Force would ask for Light to take on the role of L. 

It was perfect. So why the hell did Light feel so conflicted? 

In his euphoria over getting his memories back, Light hadn’t noticed it at first. He had been too caught up in the glee over realizing it had all worked. But later that night, when Light awoke from a nightmare screaming, there wasn’t anyone for him to grab onto. As death flashed behind his eyes, he spiraled into a panic attack, and it took ages for him to come back to himself. 

He hated L. He wanted L dead. He had to keep reminding himself of that as he twisted his fingers into his hair, trying to ignore how desperately he missed the cool fingers that would trace circles into his spine, how it was almost painful not to have Ryuzaki there to wrap his arms around. 

The next morning, he expected to wake up energized and ready to continue on with his goals. But instead all he felt was a strange hollowness in his chest. It was as if a piece of him had been torn out, and everything was off balance for him now. 

He ignored the feeling. It would go away eventually. It had to. 

The next few days were rather uneventful. Just a lot of administrative work as the Task Force had to report what they could to the police regarding Higuchi, all while keeping any mention of the Death Note completely under wraps. As soon as they had realized what the notebook could do, the Task Force had unanimously decided to keep it a secret until they figured out the best course of action. Light had no issue with this. He didn’t want anyone else finding out about the Death Note. The less people that knew how Kira killed, the better. 

Things around L were… awkward. Although neither of them had been alone together since the night Light had gotten his memories back, it was as if L knew exactly what happened. Instead of teasing comments and wry smirks being sent his way, L was avoiding looking at Light all together. When Light spoke to him, he would respond in as short of a sentence as possible, staring at his feet the entire time. 

Light told himself he shouldn’t care. But L treating him like a stranger only made the hollow feeling worse. 

Then, the next domino fell in the stack. Misa made the eye deal a second time, and went right back to work killing criminals. The Task Force noticed the uptick in killings immediately, and L announced his intent to test the 13 day rule. 

During that meeting, Light could practically feel the hate bristling off of Rem. Not like it mattered to him. 

It was decided that the next day L was going to test the 13 day rule for himself. Light should’ve felt happy, but he was just numb. 

That evening though, as soon as he stepped outside of the Task Force Headquarters building, he heard Rem’s low voice call his name. 

“Light Yagami,” she said, a seething anger behind her words, “we need to talk.” 

What the hell did she want to talk about? Was she going to yell at Light for the position he put her in? She had to realize it wasn’t going to change anything. 

Freezing mid-step, Light glanced around. There weren’t any cameras outside this part of the building, but L could still have microphones set up. 

Even if Rem was one of the most frustrating obstacles Light had come across yet (with the exception of L of course), she was much better at understanding the need for subtlety than Ryuk. Light met her eyes before glancing back to the building, and she nodded in understanding. Her skeletal hand pointed at a bench a bit of a ways down the sidewalk, far enough from the building that microphones wouldn’t be able to hear them, but still close enough to where Rem wouldn’t be hindered by her tie to the Death Note. 

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Light sauntered over to the bench, mind already racing with what he was going to say to Rem. He just needed to keep reminding her that if she didn’t do what he wanted, Misa was going to die. That was what was going to keep her in line. 

As soon as Light sat down, Rem rounded on him. 

“I know what you want me to do, Light Yagami,” Rem said, glaring at him. “I understand your plan now. If I don’t kill L before he tests the 13 day rule, Misa will be proven guilty and die. That is what you want from me, yes?” 

Smirking at Rem, Light nodded. “You got it. You kill L, and Misa stays alive. No one else on the Task Force would dare test the 13 day rule.” 

“Well I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Rem replied. 

A bluff, huh? 

Light shrugged. “Alright then. Guess Misa is going to die.” He pushed to his feet as if to leave, but Rem spoke again. 

“I do not mean I’m not willing!” Rem shouted. “I would gladly kill L if it would save Misa. Even though it would mean my own death, that is a sacrifice I am willing to make for her. What I’m telling you is I _can’t_ kill L.” 

The smirk fell away from Light’s face. “What do you mean?” 

Rem sighed. “Even if I were to write L’s name in my Death Note, he would not die. I can tell you his real name, and you won’t be able to do anything with that information because your own Death Note wouldn’t have any effect on him either.” 

L was immune to the Death Note. No matter who wrote his name down, a shinigami or Light or Misa, none of it would matter because it wouldn’t work on him. 

Suddenly, Light remembered a conversation he’d had with Ryuk nearly a year ago, only a few weeks after he’d first gotten the Death Note. 

_“Is there anyone the Death Note can’t kill?”_

_It was a bright afternoon. Light had come straight home from school, finished his homework with record speed, and was going through the usual routine of writing criminals' names in the Death Note._

_It was so easy, writing name after name. This was clearly the most efficient system ever designed for killing someone. All you needed was a pen, a name, and a face. That was what had allowed Light to kill so many criminals already, despite the short amount of time he had held the notebook for._

_Now though, he was beginning to wonder if it was _too_ easy. The rules were simple and straightforward, and one could bend them in many different ways. But Light was beginning to think this was too good to be true. He had the power of a literal god of death. There had to be some limitations to that, right? _

_Ryuk looked up from where he was starfished across Light’s bed._

_“Huh?”_

_“I asked if there’s anyone the Death Note can’t kill,” Light repeated, not looking up from the notebook as he continued to write. “Like, even if I spelled their name correctly, and had their face in my mind, is there anyone it just wouldn’t affect?”_

_A questioning noise came from Ryuk, and Light heard him shift as he lurched to his feet. The shinigami wandered over to Light’s desk, looming over his shoulder and watching Light’s pen move across the page._

_“What makes you ask that?”_

_“No reason in particular. I was just thinking about how it’s almost too easy to have the power of a god with this thing,” Light explained. He paused his writing and flipped to the front of the Death Note, so he could see the rules again. “It just says the human whose name is written in this book shall die. Not very specific, if you ask me.”_

_“Well, it’s true,” Ryuk said, shrugging. “If the person is a _human_ , and you write their name in the notebook and know what they look like, they’ll die.” _

_Light, who was running his fingers over the rules absentmindedly, paused._

_“You emphasized the word human,” Light pointed out, eyes narrowing at the shinigami. “What do you mean by that?”_

_Even though Ryuk’s grin never moved, somehow, Light could tell it was growing wider._

_“The Death Note is designed to work on humans. That’s it,” Ryuk answered, turning away from Light._

_“I get that, but you said ‘if the person is a human’, implying that there are people that aren’t human out in the world that the Death Note can’t affect,” Light pushed. He wasn’t sure why he was so adamant about Ryuk clarifying this. If anything, Ryuk had just meant animals and shinigami can’t be affected by the Death Note. But the way he said it bothered something in the back of Light’s mind. Something telling him there was more to what Ryuk was saying._

_Ryuk didn’t respond, so Light spoke again._

_“Are there people in the world who aren’t human?” He asked._

_A low chuckle reverberated from Ryuk’s chest._

_“Why, yes, in fact there are,” he answered, turning back to meet Light’s gaze._

_Light’s eyes widened. Ryuk was fucking with him, right?_

_“Like… what?” He asked, unsure if he could trust what the shinigami was telling him. “Mythological creatures or something?”_

_“I dunno about anything like werewolves or mermaids or whatever the hell you guys make movies about. I just know of one type of non-human that I’ve seen wandering around your world,” Ryuk said, sitting back down on Light’s bed. “I believe you humans call them vampires?”_

_Light blinked, staring at Ryuk._

_Then, a sharp laugh escaped him._

_“You’re kidding me, right?” Light snorted, shaking his head. “Vampires don’t exist, that’s ridiculous.”_

_“You’re talking to a literal god of death while writing in a notebook that kills people. Why are vampires so ridiculous to you?” Ryuk asked._

_This made Light’s laughter cut short. This… wasn’t a joke?_

_“Wait, are you being serious, Ryuk?”_

_“I might be here for entertainment, but lying to you about vampires wouldn’t even be that funny,” Ryuk said._

_Well, he had a point there._

_“Wait, so do you just mean the Death Note can’t kill them with a heart attack? Or does it not affect them at all?” Light asked, eyes widening. If vampires existed, that could change everything for him. There would be people Kira wouldn’t be able to pass judgement on. Wicked souls that not even the hand of God could touch._

_Ryuk stared at him for a moment, his bulging eyes unblinking as per usual._

_“You can’t use a Death Note to kill a vampire, no.”_

_Light frowned. “But what if you were to write a different method of death? Like setting them on fire, or having a stake fly through their heart?”_

_“Nope.”_

_“So you mean you can’t kill vampires at all?” Light pushed._

_“I mean, you can definitely kill them,” Ryuk laughed. “Just not using a Death Note.”_

_“But why?” Light asked. “Why are vampires immune to the Death Note?”_

_Ryuk laughed again, and Light had to grit his teeth against the sound._

_“To answer that, I’ll have to give you a little history lesson, Light,” Ryuk said, clapping his hands together. “A long long time ago, like, I think a couple thousand years ago or something, a Death Note fell to Earth. Now Death Note’s have been falling to Earth since the beginning of time, but this one was different, and that was because of the woman who picked it up,_

_“I dunno much about her, I wasn’t the shinigami attached to that notebook. But she was a bit of a weird lady who wasn’t afraid of her shinigami in the slightest. It’s not only that she wasn’t afraid, but she was attracted to them.”_

_“Please don’t tell me this is going where I think it’s going,” Light groaned, burying his head in his hands and already regretting his question._

_“It’s going exactly there!” Ryuk replied cheerfully. “This horny lady and her horny shinigami somehow figured out how to fuck, and honestly, I don’t know how they did it because shinigami really don’t have… the necessary equipment for that if you get what I’m saying,” he continued._

_“Now, let me tell you, the Shinigami King was pissed about this. You know we have a rule that says shinigami are literally not allowed to fuck? Yeah, this is why. Because these two horny assholes ruined it for everyone,” Ryuk explained. “Long story short though, the reason the Shinigami King was so upset about them doing the dirty was because it somehow resulted in the woman getting pregnant. The thing she gave birth to was half human, half shinigami, also known as the first vampire.”_

_Light whipped his head up at this, gaping at Ryuk._

_“Vampires are half shinigami?”_

_“Yup!” Ryuk answered. “Think about it. How do shinigami continue living?”_

_“If you kill a human before their natural lifespan is up, the rest of their lifespan gets added onto yours,” Light replied, remembering Ryuk telling him that before._

_“And how do vampires keep living?” Ryuk pressed._

_“By… drinking human blood?” Light answered, unsure._

_“Another way you could word that is, ‘draining their life force’, am I right?” Ryuk pointed out._

_Light sucked in a breath. “So when a vampire drinks from someone, you mean to say they’re stealing years off their lifespan?”_

_“Well… not exactly. It’s not like one minute of blood sucking equals one year off a person’s life. Human blood replenishes naturally so losing a bit isn’t going to permanently shorten your lifespan. It’s more just like a biological version of what we do,” Ryuk explained. “But yeah, essentially, vampires don’t age just like shinigami. Along with that, just like how writing a shinigami’s name in a Death Note won’t do anything, writing a vampire’s name in the Death Note won’t affect them.”_

_“But if vampires are born from humans and shinigami, and you haven’t been able to do that since that woman all those years ago, how is there more than one vampire in the world?” Light questioned._

_“Vampires aren’t able to reproduce in the biological way. That’s another consequence of being half shinigami. The way a vampire makes another vampire is by letting them drink their hybrid blood,_

_“Anyway, when vampires were created as a result of this shinigami and their human, the Shinigami King was very upset, and understandably so. But it’s not like we could kill the new half shinigami person, because she couldn’t be hurt by the Death Note. So they stuck around.”_

_Light nodded, staring at the ground. That made sense, as much as he hated to admit it. Vampires existed, and they couldn’t be hurt by the Death Note because they were half-shinigami. According to Ryuk, they could be killed in other ways, but Light wasn’t the type to get his hands dirty._

_He just had to hope he never met a vampire he’d have to kill._

_“I have one last question about vampires,” Light said after he had taken a few minutes to absorb the new information. “Are you able to tell if someone is a vampire just by looking at them?”_

_“Yup. Their lifespan is different from a human,” Ryuk answered._

_“How so?”_

_“Well, instead of having numbers above their head that represent how many years they’ve got left, vampires have a ticking clock that’s always going up. The clock counts how long they’ve been alive for.”_

_“And I’m guessing you wouldn’t tell me if I ever ran into someone who was a vampire?” Light asked._

_“Nope, I would not.”_

_“Good to know,” Light said, turning back to the notebook. “Thanks for explaining all that to me. I’ll have to keep that in mind from here on out.”_

Vampires. The Death Note couldn’t affect vampires. 

Rem said the Death Note wouldn’t affect L. 

“L… is a vampire?” Light asked Rem, hating how ridiculous the word even sounded in his mouth. It sounded so far fetched, yet it made a strange amount of sense to Light. In fact, he was surprised by how little it shocked him. He’d always known there was something different about L, and him being immortal was something Light probably would’ve figured out on his own eventually had Rem not told him. 

“He is. I suspect Ryuk already explained to you why they are exempt from the Death Note?” Rem questioned. 

Light nodded, his mouth dry. “So no matter what, you can’t kill L for me?” 

“No, I can’t. But if L tests his 13 day rule tomorrow, Misa will end up dying. And if that happens,” pausing, Rem leaned down so she was only inches from Light’s face. “I will not hesitate to kill you, Light Yagami. Unlike L, you are a mere human who I can very much kill. I will give you a death that is so painful, it will be far worse than any death you’ve experienced yet.” 

In that moment, Light was so startled by the sudden power shift between him and Rem, he didn’t even think to ask her what she meant by ‘any death you’ve experienced yet’. Instead, all he did was step away from her, clenching his jaw as he tried to mask his fear. 

“I understand,” he said. “How do I kill him?” 

“While vampires may be immune to old age and disease, they are not made of steel. If I remember correctly, you humans seem to think a wooden stake is what does it. I believe any kind of stab wound to the chest would kill a vampire though. I doubt it actually has to be wood,” Rem explained. 

Light nodded, shoving down the nausea rising up his throat. “The others don’t know you can only kill with a Death Note. If- _When_ I kill L, will you take the blame?” 

“Human law doesn’t apply to me, so I have no issue with this. I will accept any lie you need me to as long as it will keep Misa alive,” Rem agreed. 

“Okay.” Glancing back to the building, Light realized the sun had already set. If he was going to do this, it was better to do it now, when the rest of the Task Force had already left. There were butcher knives in the kitchen. Checking his watch, Light realized it was past time for L to eat dinner, which meant that Watari most likely wouldn’t be in the kitchen. 

With one last nod at Rem, Light squared his shoulders and made his way back towards the building. Every step he took felt like he was weighed down by lead, and there was a growing ache in his chest. In just a few minutes, he would take L’s life himself, with his own two hands. 

Light imagined it. L looking up at him with those dark, onyx-like eyes, crimson red blood pouring from his chest and staining his white shirt a deep red. He would stare up at Light as his life force drained out, and Light would watch L fade away. 

It didn’t feel good. Not like Light had thought it would. In fact, it made him want to scream. 

Light clenched his fists so tightly, his nails cut into his palms and blood began to pool in his hands. It didn’t matter. He had to end this game. 

Scanning his ID card to get back into the building, another spike of nausea rolled through Light as one word bounced around his head. 

_Checkmate._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry to leave yall on a cliffhangar like that but I just really wanted to LMAO I promise I'll try to get the next chapter finished sooner to make up for it
> 
> anyway I FINALLY get to put in my shinigami lore. I actually wrote that flashback scene with Light and Ryuk months ago, back when I had only published like chapter 1 or 2 of this. ngl I was very proud of the connection I managed to draw between vampires and shinigami, as I think it actually makes a bit of sense?? let me know what you think down in the comments!
> 
> also yeah Light not being surprised by the fact that L is a vampire is more just subconscious memories telling him that L's immortal considering he's technically known L for 400 years
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! please scream in the comments below, sorry not sorry for the pain ;)
> 
> (also, take a look, I've taken this fic off anon! nice to meet you all officially!)


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